


This Was Always Your Home

by Thatmalu



Series: Homes Series [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Sonia Kaspbrak, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak Are Best Friends, Dead Pennywise (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fluff and Angst, Gay Disaster Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier's parents are supportive, SHINING, Smutty, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stanley Uris Knows All, Switch Eddie Kaspbrak, Switch Richie Tozier, its like growing pains when leonardo dicaprio moves in but gay, the shine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatmalu/pseuds/Thatmalu
Summary: There was more to Eddie's "sickness" than he led his friends to believe, and even he didn't realize it until he met Pennywise in the boy's communal shower after gym class.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Homes Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686856
Comments: 130
Kudos: 263
Collections: Reddie





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can never get enough of Reddie, my absolute OTP.  
> I want them to be happy, I really do, but sometimes killer clowns and bad parents get in the way.
> 
> Eddie & Richie are both 18 in the time the majority of the story takes place. Trigger Warning for those sensitive to homophobic/abusive parents. It's Sonia Kaspbrak, what do you expect?

This was one of the most disgusting school punishments Eddie Kaspbrak had ever received in his whole 13 years of life. His tiny body was shrunk into itself as much as humanly possible, balancing on his tippy toes, as to touch as little of the shower as possible. Showers were supposed to be clean, comforting – this was fucking gross. Eddie had made the mistake today of enjoying himself; he had let Bill coax him into _running_ with the rest of the class, actually letting his legs carry him with surprising ease, wind whipping his hair back and elated that Bill was smiling for the first time at school since Georgie di – no, since Georgie went _missing_ , because Eddie was _fast_ and he caught up to Bill on the track and tackled him to the dirt.

Their gym teacher was so pleased to see Eddie do something besides sit on the sidelines, insisting his asthma was too bad, and his sickness too great to join the regular physical activities. But when it was time to go back inside, Coach Black instructed Eddie to join the boys in the showers; dirty, shared, public showers. The other boys went in as Eddie stood there trying desperately to avoid it, promising he would shower at home.

“Eddie,” Coach Black sighed. “It’s policy for every student that participates in gym. If you don’t… I’ll have to call your mother.”

“No!” Eddie squealed. “She can’t know I went running! Please! She’ll kill me!”

“Then you have to shower. I’ll write you a late pass for your next class if you want to wait for the others boys to leave, but you _have_ to shower, Eddie.”

So there he was, letting the water splash his shoulders, shivering in disgust despite the water being warm. He was even more upset because he was missing his Spanish class with Richie and Stan, and even though he voiced his hatred for it as much as he did when Richie called him ‘Eds’ or ‘Cutie,’ Eddie felt a great surge of affection whenever Richie looked over at him with his dumb grin and called him ‘Eduardo.’

Then, as though materialized from Eddie’s thoughts, Eddie startled when he heard Richie’s real voice echoing what he had just been thinking.

“Eduardo! Why aren’t you in class?”

“Richie, what the fuck?” Eddie gasped, turning into himself even more to cover his dick, because _excuse me_ but this is just too far, even for Richie. “Get the fuck out of my shower!”

“Damn, Eds. Can’t believe I’ve been pinching the wrong cheeks all these years.”

Eddie felt his cheeks – the ones on his face – reddening. He turned to his friend to snap back, but nearly yelped and backed into the tiny corner when he saw It for the first time.

Richie stood there, naked and _rotting_ , his skin nearly melting off the bone in decay, his teeth jagged and eyes yellow behind his coke bottle lenses. Eddie pressed himself into the wall as much as he could, desperately wishing he had his inhaler and not to believe what he was seeing.

“How ‘bout a blowjob, Eds?” Not-Richie said with a grin. “I’ll do it for a dime. I’ll blow ya for free. Or would you rather blow me? Is that what you want? You want your little hands on my big cock, cutie? Huh? You want me to choke you with my dick?”

Eddie lost his ability to speak. He was shaking, shaking so violently now with fear because _what the actual fuck is this thing!_ and he shut his eyes tight to get the Not-Richie out of his head. _This isn’t real! It’s not real!_

“C’mere you filthy faggot! Showers aren’t gonna wash your queer thoughts away, gayboy. I know you think about big flaming cocks in your ass – ”

_Not real! Not real! Not real!_

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes shot open – Not-Richie was gone, as though Coach Black voice had scared It away.

“Eddie? You OK in there?”

“Yeah,” Eddie called out, steadying himself to stand up, still shaking and out of breathe. “I’m almost done.”

“OK,” Coach Black voice still dripped with concern. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

Eddie turned the shower off and got the hell out of there before the Not-Richie could come back. He grabbed his towel and turned to look down at the drain, wondering if whatever It was, it had scampered back down there. The thought was absurd, Eddie knew, as a Richie-sized thing could not fit in a drain, but if it was really Not-Richie then what the hell actually was It? Curious as much as he was scared, Eddie leaned over to peak down and look into the drain. He saw nothing, but heard a soft low growl echoing through it.

“Eddie… what are you looking for?”

And with that, Eddie leapt out of the shower and ran back to the lockers to change, vowing to never again use a public shower in his life. Weeks later, he’d see the damn thing on Neibolt. Months after, It would die in the sewers at the hands of Eddie and his friends. Eddie was relieved, not just because It was dead, but because the one living thing in this world that knew his darkest, worst fear was finally gone. Because after that day in the locker room showers, Eddie thought about that question, that thing that he was looking for, and he realized for the first time, deep in his soul, that what he was looking for was sitting next to him in Spanish class with a shit-eating grin and Hawaiian shirt.

18-year-old Eddie squeezed himself through his bedroom door as quietly as possible, having had purposefully left it open an Eddie-sized crack before telling his mother he was going to sleep. He had waited until he heard her snoring before getting up and making his way quietly downstairs to the TV (because, of course a TV in _his_ room was just as bad as letting the devil in with him, according to her). He held his finger on the Volume Down button before even turning the TV on, making sure to quiet the volume as fast as possible before flipping into the high-number channels that they didn’t get. What Sonia didn’t really grasp, because she never bothered to peak at those channels longer than a second just to make sure they were nothing but static, was that you could sometimes still _hear_ what was going on in those pay per view channels, even if you couldn’t see it quite clearly. Eddie leaned his ear in and heard the faint moaning from late night porn. Bingo.

Eddie was trying his best to jerk off to stranger’s voices from his TV, because his hormones often on reflex brought his brain to familiar voices when he was alone in his quiet room. For some reason, despite his best intentions, his horny brain wanted to think about _everybody_ naked and moaning in his bed, and that was just too much for him to handle. He’d be trying his hardest to imagine a faceless stud when all of a sudden, at the brink of orgasm, his brain decided to plaster a familiar face on the body, like Bill or Stan, or even one of his teachers, and he’d spend the whole next day avoiding their gaze as though they had a sense to know what he did.

And sometimes, no, _most_ times, he’d think about Richie, and the body would morph into his pale lanky ass, ribs almost too visible, limbs too long, hair desperately needing to be combed, and this didn’t make Eddie feel too bad sometimes, because Richie might find it funny. But then he thought about Richie finding out and playfully taunting him, but never truly wanting him, and even if he knew Richie would still be his friend, this hurt almost as much as Richie despising him.

The first time he thought of Richie that way was in the horrible summer of 1989. He repressed his thoughts after the shower incident, but one day he found himself alone with Richie in his bed at the Tozier house, talking about _kissing_ of all things.

“That’s _sooo_ gross,” young Eddie said with disgust as he watched Richie lapping at the air with his tongue in Eddie’s direction. “Girls don’t want you doing that shit into their mouths, Rich.” _But he was curious…_

“Uh, hello? Have you seen Gene Simmons’ tongue? Girls love that shit. Girls don’t just want it in their mouths, either,” Richie added with a wink.

Eddie’s face scrunched up. He knew what Richie was talking about, and he, Richie, Bill, and Stanley once peaked at a wild girly mag going around school with a picture of a fully spread, real life vagina on it, and man did that look _gross_. But all the other boys were eyeing it with greed, fighting over their eyes’ share, and Eddie played along a bit, but the more he stared at it the more he was reminded of a Venus fly trap.

“It’s really not that gross when you’re doing it,” Richie had said. “Plus, you don’t just dive your tongue in, Romeo, you build up to it. You start off slow, mouths _closed_ first, you animal.”

“How do _you_ know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“It’s science.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but Richie had scooted closer to him, both now touching at the knees, sitting with their legs crossed. Eddie felt an overwhelming heat pass through him from the roughness of Richie’s jeans on the bare skin of his legs.

“What are you doing?”

Richie smirked. “Practice with me.”

“ _What?!”_

“Shh!” Richie hushed, clamping his hand over Eddie’s mouth for a moment. “Do you want my sister to run in here?”

Eddie pushed Richie’s hand off. “This isn’t _funny_ , Trashmouth.”

Richie shook his head. “I’m not being funny, Eddie my love. Just kiss me and see how it’s not a big deal.”

Before Eddie could even respond, Richie’s big hands were on either side of his face and he could feel Richie’s lips against his. Eddie opened his mouth and made an unattractive noise out of shock, creating just a small space for Richie, _if he wanted to_ , he could just slip his tongue in…

But it was over just like that. For a brief moment, Eddie’s heart burst into fractures at the feeling of Richie’s lips against his just for a _second._ He suppressed the urge to grab his inhaler as Richie dropped his hands with a proud smile on his face.

“See? No big deal.”

Those fractures of Eddie’s heart crushed into powder, a dull ache building in his chest. Of course it didn’t mean anything. It was Richie. He might even be amused if Eddie liked it, but he would never like Eddie back that way. Not then, when they were kids, and not now, on the verge of adulthood.

Eddie thought about that kiss a lot. Like, an unhealthy amount. None of his thoughts were comforting, so Eddie soon found it best to stay up and press his ears to the low-volume TV and listen to strangers grunting instead of using his imagination, as it betrayed him too often.

It was not one second after he grabbed his dick, leaning up against the TV speaker, that he heard a _girl_ moaning into his ear, and no offense but _gross._ He hand froze, still gripping his erection, waiting impatiently for her to just fucking shut up, but then _another_ girl started moaning and Eddie frowned at the TV. Lesbian porn? Ugh.

He tried once again to start pumping, maybe this could work somehow, but to his annoyance he was just too gay for this shit. Eddie sighed in frustration, pressing the power button angrily and laying down on the floor to jerk off in silence, wondering if Richie could stop talking long enough to ever get his mouth on Eddie’s dick. Then, as luck would have it, Eddie felt guilty and gross and gave up altogether. He let his mind drift to baseball and his grandma, the usual anti-boner method, when a quick image of Richie in a baseball outfit popped into his head and made his dick twitch.

“Cut it out, asshole,” Eddie muttered to his crotch. He was a disaster.

Morning came with a rough start. Eddie jolted up in bed, his heartbeat quickening, wondering why he had woken up in such a startle. He didn’t need to wonder long though, because his mother’s harsh voice came again from downstairs, louder this time.

“EDWARD FRANCIS KASPBRAK! COME – DOWN – HERE – NOW!”

“COMING!” he shouted back, voice rough with sleep, unsure what he did wrong this time, but panicking nonetheless. He hurried downstairs, quickly throwing on his slippers before his mom could also yell at him for bare feet in the house and catching a cold.

Eddie didn’t even have time to ask what he had done before his mother had a hard grip on his ear, practically throwing him onto the sofa. Over the years, Sonia had to start asserting real strength to keep Eddie in control as he got taller and stronger, but Eddie learned the hard way she was much, much stronger than she looked. To her advantage, Eddie was still much smaller than average, petite almost, and he never quite made it to her height.

“Explain!” she screamed, pointing a threatening finger in his face.

“Explain _what?_ ” Eddie cried innocently, really not knowing what he did wrong this time.

His mother threw her fat finger towards the direction of the TV, and Eddie’s eyes followed to see, to his complete horror, the fuzzy static of the porn he had left on the TV last night, having forgotten to change the channels before returning to bed. Fuck.

“Uh, what’s that?” Eddie asked too innocently, only to be met with a painful smack to his face.

“Do _not_ lie to me!” Sonia spat back at him. “Edward, do you have _any_ idea what could come from watching filth like this?

_A good time?_ Eddie wanted to say, but bit his tongue; he may have been a legal adult, but he still had 3 more months of high school hell before he could get away with such sass. He knew he was screwed, so he put on his best face and opted for a half-truth instead.

“I’m sorry, ma,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t know what it was and I really didn’t like it, I promise. I turned it off right away. I just couldn’t sleep and I was flipping through all the channels and that just came on.”

He heard his mother sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, her grip tight.

“We’re going to see Pastor Mark this weekend. It’s been too long and you _need_ some spiritual medication Eddie. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically, keeping his eyes down. Fucking spiritual medication. He hated going to church. He was still on the fence about the whole god thing prior to the Pennywise business, and he was definitely not buying the whole god thing after finding out about a shape shifting monster from outer space living underneath their town. Despite any of this, his guilt was magnified tenfold when sitting in the church pews and listening to some old man talking about sinning and hell and repenting. It made Eddie feel sickly and filthy, and deep down he thought he must be sick, because despite his absence of monotheistic beliefs, he knew his desires were not natural, how could they be?

Biology told him otherwise, but his mind was often filled with sick fantasies he couldn’t escape. He dressed silently for school, still able to feel his mothers burning rage through the closed door and the sting on his cheek, wondering if he should just accept a life of celibacy. It was probably his best option. He paused in front of his full-length mirror and briefly took a moment to review his sexual inventory, and honestly he was better off not even trying. Who would Eddie seduce looking like this? He was too short, somehow skinny _and_ fat, his ribs too visible, love handles too chunky, and who on earth was he supposed to impress with a dick like this?

Eddie shuddered at the memory of being in a doctor’s office when he was a small kid. Eddie supposed his father insisted not to circumcise him at birth, but in his father’s postmortem absence and his mothers rising awareness of illness and germs, she deemed it necessary to try to get it done much later than it should have been done. Eddie overheard a nurse saying something like "borderline child abuse" and telling the physician that his mother was only doing it to shame the boy and make him feel dirty. The physician insisted that she just had to keep it clean, a foreskin was fine and natural and it wasn’t recommended to get it removed so late without a medical necessity, but Sonia Kaspbrak deemed a lot of things necessary for her Eddie-bear. Thus, a six year old Eddie was forced to have a surgery that was not done properly, and he was left with what he presumed was a partial foreskin and Eddie realized it was just making him angry to look at himself, so he continued to get ready for school, thinking, _Yup, celibacy it is._

Eddie ate his breakfast silently as Sonia continued ranting about the evils of pornography and masturbation. He cleaned the dishes like a good son should, drying the plates off when the doorbell rang. Sonia shot him an angry look.

“Why is he here?” she hissed.

Eddie didn’t need to ask how she knew it was Richie. Eddie placed the plate down and made his way to the door, avoiding his mother’s eye. He opened the door enough so that Richie was still out of Sonia’s eyesight, his stupid grin already plastered on his face.

“Hey there, cutie,” Richie said immediately, causing Eddie to blush and look horrified, knowing his mother could definitely hear him. “Need a ride?”

“Uh,” was all Eddie was able to say before he felt his mother behind him, whipping the door open to show Richie her domineering presence. Richie was at least a head taller than her, but even he knew to cower at her when she was like this, his grin fading.

“I will be taking Edward to school, Richard.”

“Mom, you should save your gas for church,” Eddie said, hoping to appease her. “Richie is already here and you won’t have to miss your Soaps.”

Sonia opened and closed her mouth quickly, considering this. Miraculously, she let him go, though not before demanding a goodbye kiss that made Eddie want to vomit and chastising Richie for his ripped jeans and untamed hair. “Love you, mom,” he said quickly before closing the door. Richie, thankfully, didn’t say anything until they closed the doors to his mint green Daewoo.

“Jesus, Eds, what did you do now?” Richie laughed, starting the engine, his music blaring through the speakers.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Eddie grumbled, lowering the volume, though appreciating the mood that Rage Against the Machine was giving off.

“Eddie, I will literally pester you until you spill.”

Eddie groaned. Richie wasn’t lying. “She found out I was watching porn.”

Richie guffawed, smacking his palm on the dashboard. “Oh god, Eds, I am so proud of you. How dirty was it? Did Sonia get a glimpse of some DP action? Fisting?”

“Jesus Christ, Richie, NO. That’s disgusting. We’re not all animals like you.”

“I didn’t say _I_ watch those things, Edward.”

Eddie shook his head. “Either way, I have no idea. I can’t see much through the static. It was listening more than anything.”

“You poor, sweet baby. Maybe I should lend you some mags from my collection.”

“I don’t want anything with your dry cum stains on them, Richie.” Though, truthfully, Eddie got a little excited thinking about Richie sitting in his room with his dick out, and he tried to push that thought away before his own dick caught up with his mind.

“Does she still make you sleep with the door open?” Richie asked as he turned a corner.

“Yes,” Eddie said bitterly. “She insists it’s because the door could get jammed in an emergency if I close it.”

Richie shook his head. “See, that shit should’ve stopped in November when you turned 18. Sonia needs to fuck off. Or get fucked. Maybe that’s why the porn upsets her so much.”

“Gross, Richie. I don’t want to think about that shit. Besides, what happened to giving it to my mom on the regular? I thought that was basically your job.” He couldn’t help but smirk at Richie.

“Moment of truth, Eddie my love: I do not fuck your mother. No one that has been blessed with getting my dick would ever be that miserable.”

“You’re unbelievable, Trashmouth,” Eddie said affectionately.

Richie finally parked his car in the school lot. Eddie was about to get out of the car, grabbing his backpack from the floor, when Richie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How about a sleepover tonight?” he asked. “You need a break from Sonia.”

“How exactly are you going to convince her to let me sleep over?”

“I’ve got ways,” Richie replied with a wink before getting out of the car.

Eddie felt ecstatic all day. It had literally been years since he was able to sleep over Richie’s house. His mother, of course, deemed it inappropriate for boys at such an age. The only Loser whose house he had slept at was Stanley’s, and it was only because he insisted that he slept in the guest room, and it was only to ‘study.’ Admittedly, Eddie was also a little bit terrified, because Richie did _not_ have a guest room, and even if they could convince his mother he’d sleep on the couch, Richie would insist Eddie take the bed with him and Eddie didn’t trust his body not to react to the… proximity. Soon enough, school was over, and Eddie was bursting to get back to Richie’s, giving his friends way-too-quick goodbyes at the end of the day. Richie grinned at him in the car. Eddie blushed.

“Take it easy, I’d be this excited to get away from Satan, too,” Richie said simply. “Honestly, sometimes I’d rather have that fucking clown back than deal with your mother.”

Soon, Eddie’s anxieties seemed to dissipate entirely when he was greeted by the Tozier household. He loved how welcomed he always was and how Richie’s parents clearly showed love and support for him in a way Eddie could never quite understand. When Richie told his parents he was going to try stand-up comedy, his father simply _gushed_ about how funny Richie was and how he’d kill it. Maggie was not as enthusiastic, but assured him he was always welcome home again if he needed to ‘start over,’ and hoped the world saw how wonderful he was as she did. Eddie only knew conditional love; he would never know what it felt like to be that truly accepted by the woman he called his mother.

Eddie was then shocked when Richie flat out told his dad about what Eddie did.

“Richie!” he hissed, after Richie had just finished explaining about the porn. Richie’s sister, Penny, started giggling.

“Eddie, it’s OK,” Wentworth said through quiet laughter. “You’re a teenager. It’s perfectly normal. Penny, be quiet.”

Eddie hid his face in embarrassment and felt Richie’s arm around his shoulder. “See, buddy. Perfectly normal. Your mom is the one with the problem. Dad, can he spend the night? The kid _needs_ a break from that woman.”

“I am four months older than you, Richie, do not call me a kid.”

“Stop being so damn cute, then,” Richie said, pinching Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie heard the phone dial and looked up to see Dr. Tozier pressing the familiar numbers to Eddie’s own house. He felt his stomach do a flip, wondering what he was going to say to his mother.

“Hi – Mrs. Kaspbrak? It’s Dr. Tozier. Yes well – Oh, I’m swell, thanks. Listen, sorry to bother you this afternoon, but I was wondering if Edward could come over and stay for dinner. Oh, well, see I’m having Pastor Mark over this evening to discuss a mission to Costa Rica for uh – dentists without boarders – yes, I know, it’s a great cause, I’m happy to do it if the church will fund it. Anyway, Richie called me before leaving school to tell me he’d be dropping Eddie off and it came to my attention Eddie was interested in seeking some spiritual advise from – yes? Yes, of course. Yes… yes… well, I’d insist on letting him stay the night if it gets late, we have that new pull-out mattress from the couch. Sure. Yes. OK, thank you so much. I’ll be sure to tell him. Thanks, Sonia!”

Eddie stared flabbergasted as Wentworth hung up. Richie started laughing.

“Dentists without boarders? Really, dad?”

Wentworth shrugged. “Hey, dental work is as important as food donations.”

“Is Pastor Mark really coming over?” Eddie asked quietly.

Wentworth laughed. “No, Eddie. Nor do I have a pull-out. I’m afraid you’re stuck with Richie or the couch.”

“Yeah, if you pulled out, you wouldn’t have the pleasure of having a wonderful son like me,” Richie said. Penny and Eddie both groaned.

And so it was, Eddie got to sleep over Richie’s house. On a _Tuesday_. They ate junk food in Richie’s room after eating pizza for dinner (Maggie was visiting her sister in Portsmouth and Wentworth didn’t trust his children with the stove) and fought over movies, finally deciding on Bloodsport. Something manly that had nothing to do with seeing Jean-Claude Van Damme shirtless, Eddie told himself. They cracked Richie’s window open to share a joint, and Eddie was feeling giddy when Richie handed him a water bottle, lighting himself a cigarette over his windowsill. Eddie would normally protest about sharing germs, but he took it anyway, not noticing the wide grin on Richie’s face as he did so. He had taken about three big gulps before the burn hit his throat and he sputtered the alcohol onto his shirt.

“Take it easy, Eds,” Richie said, taking the bottle back after a drag from his cigarette, breathing the smoke out the window. “It’s just Vodka.”

“Why do you have Vodka in a Poland Spring bottle?”

Richie took a few swigs, trying to hide a grimace that Eddie noticed. “So that my parents think its Poland Spring, idiot.” He handed the bottle back to Eddie. He hesitated, and Richie shook the bottle at him, winking. “C’mon, Eds. You’re _free_ tonight. It’ll be the best sleep of your life.”

Eddie sighed and did what he was told. They were both idiots, sitting there drinking the whole bottle together in a couple short minutes, not fully understanding what it was going to be like when that shit hit. And boy did that shit _hit_. Eddie didn’t fully realize it until he went to stand up to change and Richie’s room sped around him, and he fell back onto the mattress giggling.

“Oh no,” he giggled. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

Richie laughed stupidly next to him, sitting cross-legged on the bed, touching his face and looking like he was having some sort of religious experience. Eddie hoisted himself up just enough to adjust himself back onto the mattress, leaning back against Richie’s headrest.

“Dude,” Richie said. “Do you feel numb?”

Eddie went to touch his face, which was weird in many ways. Firstly, his hand moved faster than he anticipated, as though it was guided to his face by an unknown force rather than his own mind. Secondly, he _did_ feel kind of numb. Not numb like the dentist numb, but tingly and funny feeling. He wondered if all alcohol did this or a combination of Richie’s pot and the Vodka.

For a moment, Eddie wondered if his other hand moved on its own again, but realized Richie was touching his face. His body and limbs felt too heavy to protest. Richie was grazing his lips with his fingers.

“What does that feel like?” Richie asked, his tone different somehow in a way Eddie couldn’t place.

“Weird,” Eddie said simply. He probably should find this weird and even weirder when Richie then slipped two of his fingers in his mouth. Had he been sober, he supposed he’d have startled, but all he did was furrow his brow in confusion.

“You know what else would feel awesome?” Richie asked, rubbing his fingers inside Eddie’s cheeks.

“Huh?” Eddie said around Richie’s fingers.

“Jerking off,” Richie said with a little laugh, pulling his fingers back out to trace Eddie’s lips with his own saliva.

“That would be fun to find out.”

“Yeah, it would.”

In a swift movement, Richie pulled Eddie’s hand to his crotch and Eddie felt what was definitely a _hard_ dick in Richie’s pants and the realization finally jumpstarted his brain to react to what was happening in an unpleasant startle. Eddie didn’t realize how close he still was to the edge, until he slipped off completely, bringing Richie’s lamp down with him as his arm snagged on the cord, shattering to the floor. Eddie’s head hit Richie’s floor with a smack, and for a moment he saw stars.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he heard Richie saying in the darkness, the lamp’s light having been smothered out with the crash. “Shit, Eddie, hold on.”

Eddie groaned in response, listening to Richie rush to turn the ceiling light on. He felt suddenly very sober, and when he went to lift his arm, he could feel every piece of glass that was embedded in it and he yelped, his other hand reaching over and feeling the wet, sticky blood. Shit. Sonia was going to _murder_ him.

Eddie squinted briefly as the ceiling light was switched on before looking down and seeing pieces of Richie’s lamp sticking out of his arm, and truthfully the blood wasn’t as bad as he expected, but finally seeing it registered the pain he should have been feeling.

Richie continuously apologized, helping him get to the bathroom. Sure, Wentworth was a dentist, but thankfully he had the supplies to clean and stitch Eddie up in the bathroom. Then, to his horror, Dr. Tozier himself had come in, stirred from the commotion. Richie was still yapping away apologies to the both of them when Wentworth finally raised a hand to silence his son.

“Richie, enough. Go to your room and clean up the mess.”

Eddie was shocked and how obedient Richie was, immediately leaving his father and Eddie alone. Eddie sucked in his breath, hoping to hide the smell of pot and liquor, but stayed silent, guilt displayed on his face. Wentworth sighed before helping Eddie clean his arm up, cautiously taking away pieces of broken glass. “What on earth happened?”

Eddie looked down at his arm sheepishly. “We were just goofing off. I fell off the bed. I’m really sorry.”

Wentworth shook his head. “Eddie, for the love of god, please don’t give your mother more reason to hate this house. I can’t help you out again if you two are going to be doing stupid shit and getting hurt.”

Eddie did not know how to respond to this, guilt working its way through his veins faster than the Vodka. Somehow Richie’s parents being disappointed in him hurt more than his mother physically hitting him. He sat unflinching as Wentworth fixed him up before Eddie gave a tight smile of thanks and headed back to Richie’s room, exhausted by the fact that he had to go to school without any idea how a hangover felt. He was very thankful his arm looked rather clean and he could probably get away with hiding the cuts with long sleeves for a bit.

Then, as Eddie closed Riche’s bedroom door behind him, he looked from the clean floor to a fear-stricken Richie sitting on the edge of his bed, and Eddie remembered what had caused him to jump off in the first place. How exactly does one start this conversation?

“Uh, hi.” That was a start.

To Eddie’s surprise, Richie hid his face in embarrassment, as though it hadn’t been some sort of huge joke. Which, clearly, it had to have been, because it was _Richie,_ who would probably do something that dumb for a joke, right?

“Eds, I’m so sorry,” Richie groaned into his hands. “I have no idea what I was doing. I fucking came at you like a predator.” He looked up through the spaces between his fingers and Eddie’s heart fluttered noticing how upset Richie really was over this.

“Rich, it’s fine,” Eddie tried to assure him, slowly walking to the bed and sitting beside his childhood friend. “I’m used to your perverted jokes by now, it’s not like you expected me to destroy your room.”

Again to his surprise, Richie groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Eddie, it wasn’t a _joke._ Jesus Christ, like I know the flirting is a little much, and I get you’re not gay, but I practically molested you instead of just talking to you about it like a normal fucking person – ”

_Whoa, hold the fuck up._ “What did you just say?”

Richie sighed dramatically, gripping his knees and avoiding Eddie’s eyes, steadying himself. Eddie suspected the alcohol was still playing a part in Richie’s behavior.

“It’s just – I thought it was harmless to flirt with you, cause I never really made you uncomfortable, and it was enough to keep me happy, but…” He bit his lip, staring down at the floor. “I didn’t want to scare you off by trying anything, ever. Until just before, when my dumb ass thought _well, if we’re drunk it’s fine_ , but I took it too far.”

“Richie,” Eddie interrupted. “When you kissed me as kids… was that you trying to really kiss me? Or was it a joke?”

Richie hid his face again. “Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t even pinch your cheeks anymore if we can still be friends.”

Eddie peeled Richie’s hands from his face, keeping his hands on Richie’s wrists long enough for Richie to loosen them and let his hands drop to his lap, looking at Eddie with concern before Eddie grabbed both sides of Richie’s face.

“Richie. You are, without a doubt, the dumbest person I have ever met.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Richie, I’m in _love_ with you, you dumb fucking idiot.”

Eddie briefly wondered how many relationships started with saying “I love you” and “you dumb fucking idiot” in the same breathe, but it didn’t matter because before Richie tried to process what Eddie had said, Eddie pulled Richie’s face into his. And man, _oh man_ , was it something. It was years of pining and frustration mixed with _what the fuck are you supposed to do with your tongue again?_ Richie did not hesitate to pull Eddie into him from around his middle, his large hands slipping under the hem of Eddie’s shirt to caress the bare skin under it at Eddie’s waist. His mouth immediately opened to Eddie’s, and Eddie felt Richie’s chapped lips wetting quickly and his tongue snake into Eddie’s mouth to do what his fingers were doing earlier. Eddie reached up to comb his fingers through Richie’s hair and felt Richie _moan._ He pulled back in surprise at the idea that he could cause such a reaction from someone and Jesus – everything about Richie was goddamn beautiful.

“Is this OK?” Riche gasped, despite Eddie being the one to initiate the kiss this time.

Eddie grinned. “Say it back.”

Richie looked confused for a brief moment before breaking out into a smile to match Eddie’s, reaching his hand up to cup Eddie’s cheek and graze it with his thumb. “I love you, too, asshole.”

“Fuck you.”

Richie moaned again. “ _Please_ do. God, do you also watch Bloodsport to watch Van Damme's chest drip with sweat, or is it just me?”

But Eddie groaned, placing his fingers over Richie’s lips before they could kiss again. “We need to slow down.”

“We absolutely fucking do not need to slow down,” Richie said against Eddie’s hands, pulling an arm around Eddie and dragging him onto his lap.

“Rich,” Eddie warned, his other hand pressed against Richie’s chest to keep a distance. There was no mistaking how hard Richie was now, and Eddie could feel it against his thigh, and it was quite exhilarating to be sitting here like this. Richie pouted. “It’s a school night, Richie. We’re still probably drunk. I need time to process this.”

Richie huffed and leaned down; he pressed his face into Eddie’s neck and _Christ_ Eddie really liked how his breathe felt there, like shooting an electric current straight to his dick just from the light sensation on his skin. It dawned on Eddie that there was probably a whole lot of things Richie could do to him that he would like that he never got to explore before, but he didn’t want to fuck this up and work this all out right now.

“Richie,” he said a bit more softly, stroking Richie’s hair in an affectionate way he hadn’t had the pleasure of doing before. “If my mom freaked out over me watching porn, how do you think she’ll react to _this?”_

He felt Richie open his mouth to protest, but Richie stopped himself, which was a rarity. Richie pulled back then until he and Eddie were eye level. “OK.”

“OK?”

Richie nodded. “We’ll figure this out; you and me. I’m not going to let Sonia ruin your life. I’ll be patient. I waited this long.” Richie kissed Eddie again and it was gentle and tender in a way Eddie took for granted that Richie was capable of. It reminded him of the days with Pennywise, when Richie was so afraid like the rest of them he showed how vulnerable he was and held onto Eddie tight while Eddie sobbed into him after facing that fucking clown. But this was so much better, because it wasn’t fear of losing Eddie bringing that side of Richie out now, but actually having him in the most honest way possible for the first time in his life, bringing tears to Eddie’s eyes as he nestled his face into the crook of Richie’s neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie experiences some emotional ups and downs as he accepts this new chapter of his and Richie's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobic slurs.
> 
> I wouldn't call this a filler chapter, cause it's quite cute and Richie and Eddie need to get their shit figured out, but it's definitely a bridge between some very important events.
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! Enjoy!

Eddie had sat up, rubbing his eyes, feeling lightheaded but otherwise without any of the stereotypical hangover symptoms he expected. Of course, he couldn’t be feeling those things right now, because he was dreaming, and he knew he was dreaming because a familiar man stood in Richie’s room, fondly admiring some pictures of Richie, Eddie, and their friends hung up on a cork board Richie kept above his dresser, and Eddie had only had memories of this man in his dreams. Eddie’s stirring must have roused him, because he turned and offered a wide smile to Eddie and Eddie felt elated from it.

“Hey, Dad.”

Eddie couldn’t recall any memories of his dad anymore, not real ones anyway. Looking at pictures always felt like looking into a magical mirror that could show the future, because he looked like his father quite a bit, especially as he got older; same large, doe-brown eyes, a slight worried expression, even when smiling, same head shape, same hairline. His father’s nose was a bit longer, jaw line sharper, more worry wrinkles on his forehead, and his skin slightly more sun-kissed than Eddie’s mother would have allowed Eddie to ever be. He hadn’t seen pictures of his father that could indicate how tall he had been, but Eddie always manifested him as a short fellow, seeing as how he couldn’t manage to grow taller than his mother yet, and that could have been genetic. And now, his father, as young as he was when he passed 13 years ago, sat on the edge of Richie’s bed beside Eddie, cocking an eyebrow as he looked over at a sleeping Richie.

“I was wondering when this would happen.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie said defensively. “You didn’t know I was gay. You died when I was, like, 5.”

His dad chuckled. “Yeah, and I remember your mother _fuming_ while you sat on my hospital bed telling me about this little boy Richie making you cry on your first day of Kindergarten. Something about how you talked about him… we could just tell. I thought it was adorable. Your mother… not so keen, I’m afraid.”

Eddie was a little shocked by this. “I don’t… remember that. I don’t remember you in the hospital very much. Except the smell, actually,” he added, scrunching his nose in disgust. “How did Richie make me cry?”

“Let’s see,” his dad said, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling as he recalled the memory. “If I remember correctly, he pinched your cheeks and said you were just “the cutest thing he’d ever seen” and said he was going to play with you every day, but you wouldn’t let him touch your hot wheels without washing his hands. He licked his palm and wiped it on your Pontiac GTO and you refused to play with it anymore.”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, that sounds about right. But… how did you get I was gay out of that? I played with cars all the time and liked sports and – ”

He stopped when his dad shook his head, smiling sadly. “Eddie, those things have nothing to do with it. You liked cars and sports because you liked cars and sports. There’s nothing about liking a boy that necessarily changes those things, except maybe finding interests like his. Richie definitely got you into comics. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with love, Eddie. God, if you could hear the way you talked about him, even then,” his dad started laughing again. Eddie smiled back at him.

“I wish I could hear you really say these things,” Eddie said sadly, pulling his knees up to rest his chin. “I wish you were really here. I don’t think mom will ever be OK with it. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with her, with any of this.”

His father’s laughter died down and he offered Eddie a sad smile. “She wasn’t always that bad, you know. I mean, she was always kind of bad. She was a lot like _my_ mother, actually…”

Eddie thought about that, feeling so trapped by his mother’s overbearing personality that he felt forced to marry someone like her just to remain comfortable keep things familiar. He hated thinking that that was how his parent’s relationship was; well, _could_ have been. He reminded himself that he was still dreaming, that his father wasn’t really here giving him insight into his parent’s marriage, but he couldn’t really decide which was really worse: his mother going deeply insane with paranoia after his father’s death after being initially a lovely person, or always having been this way and just growing worse over the years. Thinking of his dad this miserable in his short life made him so sad. He didn’t realize he was crying until his dad leaned over and wiped a tear away with a rough thumb.

“I _am_ really here, Eddie. Whenever you need, OK? Just…” he sighed deeply resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t have to take what she says to heart, as a way to live your life, Eddie. Love is not conditional, and I wish so badly that I could’ve gotten you out of that house. But this,” he gestured to the room around them, to Richie quietly snoring on the bed. “This was always your home, too. Richie loves you, you know that now. Let your heart lead you to kindness, to joy. You don’t have to feel guilty for removing someone toxic, even if that person birthed you. Love matters; not blood. You understand?”

Eddie sat very still listening to his father speak, and god, he would’ve done anything to have this moment really be happening, because he knew this was just what he wanted his dad to say, to rid his guilt of eventually leaving Sonia, which he knew he had to do sooner or later. Even in his dream, he couldn’t think what to say, and just nodded quietly and offering his dad another small smile. “I miss you,” he said, though he wasn’t really sure why, because he couldn’t remember his real dad, only this kind and all-forgiving one that was created in his headspace. Nonetheless, it made him happy to hear his dad speak back to him.

“I miss you too, kid.”

The combination of the drugs, liquor, harassment from his mother, and sexual awakening between him and Richie gave Eddie some… _odd_ dreams. There were wet dreams and there were nightmares and then there were the strange monstrosities of absolute fuckery that invaded Eddie’s head that night. It was equal parts pornographic and terrifying and completely abstract. The only thing he could remember clearly was talking to his dad in the very bedroom he was in now, which was, at least, a pleasant dream to have and remember so clearly. At some point in the night, Eddie must’ve shimmied out of a pair of sweatpants Richie had lent him and he woke with his bare legs curled up into Richie’s flannel bottoms. He opened his eyes to see Richie facing away from him; Eddie groaned, shutting his eyes again, a splitting headache hammering behind his eyes, pulling his arm around Richie’s thin waist and pulling him into his chest. He could feel Richie sighing under his arm.

“I feel like someone dumped razors in my skull,” Richie grumbled towards the wall. He grabbed Eddie’s hands and pulled it up to his face; Eddie could feel his lips curled up into a smile before he kissed his knuckles. That… was nice.

“I can’t go to school,” Eddie said into Richie’s neck. “I’m dying.” And, honestly, if he could die here like this with Richie in his arms, that was fine.

“Eds, my dad will kill us after last night. Your _mother_ will kill us.”

Richie turned tightly to keep himself locked in Eddie’s grasp, bumping Eddie’s nose with his own and nuzzling them together. Eddie sighed. He could never place the scent that came from Richie; it wasn’t fruity or musky or floral, but it reminded him of going to the Aladdin and spending hot summer afternoons in the arcade. It made Eddie feel comfortable and he wanted nothing more than this, just to lay in his bed all day, except –

“Boys! Up! Now! Eddie, your mother needs you to call before you leave.”

Eddie groaned again and felt Richie cover his ear with his palm before shouting back at his dad.

“Be down in a minute, pops! Holy shit,” Richie grumbled, pulling away from a protesting Eddie. “You’re right. I’m gonna fucking die like this. How do adults drink like this all the time?”

Eddie dared to open his eyes for a second time, everything much too bright until Richie’s face came into focus and Eddie could swear his nausea subsided in an instant. He braced himself for the sharp pain he knew would pound under his skull from moving before pushing himself into Richie to steal a kiss. What bliss it was to feel Richie’s laugh tickling his lips.

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

“Your breath is awful.”

“Your fault for kissing the Trashmouth.”

Eddie sighed contentedly before forcing himself up. Jesus fucking Christ; hangovers are terrible.

“Do you think your dad knew?” he asked Richie as he pulled his trainers on.

“Definitely the pot, probably not the liquor. Don’t let him catch you stealing Tylenol or he’ll get suspicious.”

Eddie frowned. “Will we get in trouble for smoking?”

Richie’s lip curled up. “I think we have an unspoken agreement that if he doesn’t say anything about _my_ pot, I won’t bring up that he and mom came home from a Christmas party after eating pot brownies.”

“You’re kidding?”

Richie shrugged, grabbing his jacket off the floor before opening his door. “They were total fucking stoners in the 60s. They should return to their roots once in a while.”

Eddie made his way past Richie to jog down the stairs, wanting to call his mother before she started flipping out, feeling a little jealous of Richie and just how goddamn reasonable his parents were, but trying not to let it overwhelm him.

“Eddie, I wish you called me before breakfast,” his mother sighed when he greeted her.

“I did call before breakfast.”

“You mean you didn’t _eat yet?_ ”

“Uh, I mean, I’m just sitting down to eat some eggs and toast now,” Eddie lied, watching Richie grab them a couple of Poptarts for the road.

His mother sighed heavily, _again._ “You’re going to be _late,_ Edward. I should’ve picked you up after Pastor Mark left. What did he say when you two talked?”

“Oh, uh, can we talk about this when I get home?”

Eddie could practically feel her seething through the phone when she replied tightly, “Alright. How will you be getting home? Bill?”

“Richie,” he said thickly. “Bill has work today.” God, how does she manage to radiate her hatred through the phone like this?

“Fine. You washed your clothes, yes?”

“Yeah, I put them in the laundry before bed. Fresh and clean for school.” This was a lie, but he knew she’d have a conniption if he told her he was wearing his dirty jeans again with Richie’s underwear (even though they were clean) and flipped his t-shirt inside out under one of Richie’s sweaters. There was a pause and he rolled his eyes, knowing what she was waiting for. “Love you, mom.”

“Love you, Eddie-bear.”

Eddie hung up quickly as Richie started making throwing up noises. “Can you wait a minute so she can’t hear you, prick?”

“I have no desire to keep up the charade with that woman anymore,” Richie said bluntly. But his expression changed just a moment later, when he went to pull Eddie in, a seductive look on his face. And Eddie would’ve followed his instinct to lean into it and kiss him, but he could see Wentworth enter the kitchen in his peripheral, and elbowed Richie in the ribs.

“What the hell?” Richie groaned, rubbing his side. Eddie was surprised that he truly looked confused and _annoyed_ rather than amused, and it made him feel a little queasy.

“We gotta get to school, Rich,” Eddie said simply, stealing a Poptart from him. He turned to Wentworth, who was pouring himself a coffee. “Thanks for everything, Dr. Tozier!”

“Sure thing, Eddie,” he replied, adjusting his tie. “Richie, get him to school in one piece, please.”

Richie saluted his father, following Eddie out to his car. Eddie couldn’t help but notice Richie still looking pissed off when they got into his car. He didn’t have to wait long to talk about it, as Richie turned to him immediately after slamming his door shut. “What gives, Eds?”

Eddie felt uncomfortable looking at Richie directly, electing to become suddenly fascinated with his seatbelt. He shrugged. “Your dad almost saw.”

“So?”

Eddie frowned. “So… what exactly were you going to tell him if he saw you _kissing_ me in the kitchen?”

“Not everyone owes their parents an explanation for everything, Eddie. He’s not Sonia. I wouldn’t say a goddamn thing about it.”

He wasn’t sure why, but Eddie suddenly felt very cold, tensing up in a slight panic. “It’s not… it’s not the same, Rich. I get my mom freaks out about shit, but _most_ people aren’t too keen on having fags in the family.”

Eddie’s head finally snapped up when Richie smacked his shoulder and that cold feeling suddenly felt like fucking ice from the way Richie was looking at him. “Don’t fucking call yourself that. Don’t call _me_ that. There isn’t anything wrong with us, and I don’t want the best part of my life getting ruined because people in this town are pieces of shit and you let it get to your head.”

Eddie could feel his eyes watering, not used to experiencing any sort of hostility from Richie, self-proclaimed “lover, not a fighter,” and Richie must’ve noticed, his demeanor softening immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie croaked.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry,” Richie said, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was angry at _you._ It’s just, fucking _Derry,_ man.”

“I know,” Eddie said softly, trying to blink his eyes dry without crying. “Am I really the best part of your life?”

Like a light switch flipped on in his head, Richie’s face lit up, smiling broadly, and he reached out to cup Eddie’s face. “Always have been, Eds.” He leaned in, pausing briefly when Eddie flinched, but Eddie figured no one was around, and filled the gap between them. Eddie wondered if it was just because they had only just started doing this or if this was always what it would feel like, because having Richie physically against him like this set his skin on fire, and he wanted nothing more than to climb up into Richie’s lap and press every inch of themselves together. And Eddie couldn’t help but feel he was almost robbed last night, having only been able to get his hands on Richie’s cock for a split second, and being too drunk to properly, uh, assess everything. He reached up and tangled his fingers into Richie’s hair, feeling Richie moan again, prompting Eddie to tilt his head and tighten his grip in Richie’s curls so he could stretch himself into Richie’s mouth and let his moans vibrate against his tongue. Another flutter of excitement hit him when Richie’s hand pressed against his chest, but Richie gently pushed him back into his seat, a smug-as-shit look on his face.

“You gotta cut that shit out or I’m going to be sporting a semi in econ. Nice tent, by the way.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie said, adjusted his legs, finally embarrassed by reality hitting him that he was in Richie’s goddamn _Daewoo_. “This is your fault.”

“God, you’re so fucking cute when you pout.” 

“Take me to school, man.”

Richie ruffled Eddie’s hair before finally taking off. Eddie couldn’t help but smiling like a dumb fucking idiot in the passenger’s seat and couldn’t peel is eyes off Richie as he drove. Richie had switched his radio to an oldies station, playing cheesy love songs just gushing with adorableness. Everything hit differently now. He bit his lip thinking of how utterly stupid the two of them have both been, because clearly, _obviously_ , their friendship was not the same as with any of the other Losers –

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Richie startled slightly, tapping the break a little harshly, as though Eddie had spotted a squirrel in the road.

“How are we going to hide this from the Losers?”

Eddie gasped when Richie straight up hit the break and stopped the car about 10 feet before a stop sign.

“What do you mean _hide_ this from the Losers? Eds, you’re shitting me right? We can’t be having this conversation again.”

“Ugh, sorry. I don’t know how to do this, man,” Eddie said, as Richie slowly started creeping his car up to the stop sign ahead. “We probably should have done all this talking last night before I shoved my tongue down your throat.”

Thankfully, Richie giggled, like an actual giggle that made Eddie’s heart do a Snoopy dance. “If you think I’m going to complain, under _any_ circumstance, about your tongue in or around my body – ”

“I’m serious, though, Richie,” Eddie said, despite smiling stupidly at him as they pulled into the school lot. “We should figure some stuff out.”

Richie did not reply right away, and Eddie watched him pull his car into his usual spot, putting the car in park before turning to Eddie.

“OK, I’m going to make this really easy. Our dumb asses finally got around to realizing we want to be together. We’re together. Our friends are going to bask in our happiness. You’re going to listen to me throw horrible comedy bits and impressions at you, and I’m going to make you omelets wearing nothing but an apron every morning until I start making so much money off dumb drunk idiots who think I’m hilarious that you can stop working and let me be your sugar daddy, showering you in chocolate and gifts until our _old,_ dumb wrinkly asses die.”

Eddie blinked, staring with his mouth agape. “W-wow. That’s, uh… ”

Richie sighed. “OK. I promise I won’t wear the apron. Birthday suit omelets only.”

“Can you even cook an omelet?”

“I haven’t tried, but I’m willing to start learning to keep my boyfriend happy.”

Eddie’s breath hitched. “Boyfriend?”

Richie’s smile faded, his fingers drumming his wheel awkwardly. “Oh – well, yeah, sorry… I just – I just assumed – ”

“No, yeah – duh!” Eddie smacked his forehead like an idiot. “We’re boyfriends. Boyfriends… yeah, boyfriends.”

“Just say it one more time for good measure, Eds.” But Eddie caught the slight blush on Richie’s cheeks, and he grinned back at him.

“Richie, you’re my boyfriend.”

Richie sighed dramatically, clutching his chest as he leaned back into his seat. “Be still my heart. I finally got him.”

Eddie giggled in a way he had never let himself before, and the way it sounded must’ve stirred something in Richie, because he smiled widely at Eddie in such an affectionate way it made Eddie feel like he was made of summer breeze and fucking sunshine. “Richie. You are my boyfriend.”

“You’re going to kill me with that.”

Eddie hung back for a moment when Richie jogged over to their friends, mentally preparing for how the day was going to go with his and Richie’s newfound relationship in the back of his mind. He supposed Stan and Mike had gone to class already, Ben and Bill being the last two outside to greet Richie. Eddie was about to follow them up into the front doors, when he saw Bill waving Ben off, he and Richie starting to walk around the building.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“We have a s-sub in econ. It’s that old Norwood guy, n-never takes attendance. G-gonna smoke,” Bill said, fidgeting with a lighter.

“You wanna come, Eds?” Richie asked, already fingering the hem of his shirt pocket where he kept his cigarettes.

“Sure.” Eddie felt relieved he could take a short period to think, but was wondering how he could have a normal conversation with Bill this morning while simultaneously not getting a boner thinking about last night or having a panic attack thinking about see his mom later.

“Well, while the rest of you are being degenerates, I have to meet Stan in Calc,” Ben said. “I’m already late and I can already feel him lecturing me with his eyes.”

“Later, Haystack,” Richie said, tugging the elbow of Eddie’s jacket towards the back of the school where he and Bill (amongst other “degenerates”) would smoke. It was a little crook between the boys and girls bathrooms on the first floor, where one could easily sneak back into the building through one of the windows should a teacher be making their way around the corner. Richie had once accidently dove into the girl’s side and caused their classmate Greta to throw him out while chucking tampons at him. Eddie watched Richie light his and Bill’s cigarettes, every single part of him knowing how disgusting of a habit it was and how it could cause cancer and yellowing teeth, and it smelled like shit, but for whatever reason, while he watched Richie take a long drag, he couldn’t help but think, _Damn, that’s hot._ Which was really gross, and he hoped he’d get over that soon enough to get Richie to quit at some point.

Bill followed suit, narrowing his eyes at Richie as he exhaled. “Richie, it’s March,” he said smoothly, the smoking relaxing his stutter a bit. “Why are you wearing a Hawaiian shirt like a middle-aged d-dad in July?”

“Eddie is wearing my last clean sweater. Doesn’t he look adorable swimming in it?”

“How was being away from Sonia, anyway?” Bill asked, now turning to Eddie, who was awkwardly playing with the buttons on his jacket while staring at the way Richie kept his cigarette jutted between his teeth as he spoke and called him _adorable_.

“Great,” Eddie said truthfully, and was going to leave it at that, until Richie spoke up bluntly.

“Eddie and I made out.”

Eddie felt like he was just given a defibrillator shock, jumping off from against the brick building like a hot poker went up his ass. His brain immediately went into panic mode, eyes widening in horror at his oldest friend, but Bill’s expression barely faltered, a single eyebrow cocked in Eddie’s direction.

“If you guys keep going this slowly you’re going to be virgins until you’re 40.”

Eddie gapped at Bill while Richie threw his head back in laughter. Was Bill joking? Did he think Richie was joking? What the actual fuck was going on? Bill obviously sensed Eddie’s confusion and panic, patting Eddie on the shoulder with a smirk.

“Eds, don’t freak. I mean, we’ve all been making bets on when it was going to happen, anyway.”

“What do you mean _we_ , who is we?”

Bill shrugged. “Mike, Ben, Bev… Stan.”

“Stan is fucking cheating!” Richie said, an accusatory finger pointing in the general direction of the school building where Stanley was, ashes from the tip of his cigarette sprinkling to the ground as it frantically bounced between his teeth. “I told him I liked Eddie, like, 7 years ago, he has insider information!”

Eddie’s head snapped back to Richie. Stanley knew? _Stan?_ What the hell?

Bill must’ve thought the same thing, because he said then to Eddie, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Eddie could feel himself blush, opening his mouth to defend himself, but no words came out right away. In total honesty, he was in complete shock that Bill wasn’t looking at him in disgust or disdain. But there it was, this new information that Richie had told _his_ oldest friend in the world without any hesitation, because that’s what a best friend _should_ do, and Eddie was too chicken shit to say anything to Bill, who he’s known since he was 3 years old and fought a killer clown from outer space with for fucks sake. And now he felt like the biggest piece of shit for just assuming his friends would think the worst of him, and now he felt himself about to _cry_ again for the second time that morning, and he pathetically looked back up at Bill with tears in his eyes before leaping forward and grabbing Bill around the middle into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

Eddie felt Bill shift a little to properly hug Eddie back and the affectionate squeeze brought a sob out of Eddie when a couple tears actually fell.

“Damnit, Denborough, you’re making my boyfriend cry!”

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie grumbled into Bill’s wet shoulder, feeling Bill chuckle under him.

“So you two are ack-actually together now, right? Because if we wuh-waited all this time just for you to hit it and quit it, I’m going to be really puh-pissed.”

Eddie felt Richie’s long arms wrap around the two of them, his weight pressing in from their sides, his chin resting on Eddie’s head. “Bill, you’re crazy if you think I’m letting him get away from me now. I’m digging this cuddle session, by the way.”

“God, we must look so stupid,” Eddie said, wondering what anyone would say if they turned the corner and saw 3 (kind of) grown men hugging it out between the school bathrooms outside.

Bill laughed again, pulling away to break their hug, Richie shifting himself to hug Eddie from behind. “OK, let’s all agree, we’re all stu-stupid, and you’re trapped with T-trashmouth for the rest of your life. Eddie, you good?”

And he _was_ good, more than good by how utterly simple the interaction was, and the situation almost became hysterical during lunch, when he sat between Richie and Mike, staring in disbelief while Stan was dispersing a bunch of cash from an envelope from all the bets these stupid idiots made about their other stupid idiot friends.

“OK, so Bev will get $20 because it happened by graduation – ”

“D-don’t I get anything for that?”

“Actually, Bill, you said _by_ our senior year, not during, so you’re out,” Stan countered, reading from a little notepad that he kept their bets in. “I get $20 cause Richie made the first move – ”

“Fucking cheater,” Richie grumbled, taking an aggressive bite of his PB&J. Stan flipped him off before moving on.

“Mike – oh boy I’m going to need quarters – Mike, you get $2.50 to split with Bev because they were drinking.”

“Hold up,” Mike said, raising his hand. “That bet should owe _ten_ dollars, Stan, I should at least get five if I’m splitting with Bev.”

“Right, but they were also smoking,” Ben interjected. “I bet they’d be smoking.”

“Correct,” Stan said, nodding his head while double checking his notes. “So its split with Ben, for betting on them being high, and then you split the fiver with Bev because you both said they’d be drinking.”

“You’re all fucking evil,” Eddie finally butts in, but there was no bite behind it, mostly just flabbergasted about the entire ordeal.

“You know, Pastor Mark holds a youth group on Thursdays,” Ben said, looking up at Eddie and Richie.

Richie cocked his eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we need _Jesus_ , Ben? I don’t take you for the ‘gays rot in hell unless yee repent’ type.”

“No, no,” Ben said, shaking his head. “I’m saying if Eddie’s mom is that hell-bent – no pun intended – on Eddie talking to Pastor Mark, maybe he could have someplace to be every Thursday from 6-8 in the evening.”

“Thanks, Ben, but I would rather get water boarded,” said Eddie. 

Stan groaned dramatically. “Morons, the both of you. He’s saying you can go to Richie’s once a week and just _tell_ Sonia you’ll be in youth group. And it ends late enough that you can say you’re sleeping over someone’s house after if she lets you.”

“My place is right by the church,” Ben said. “5 houses down, great excuse to stay the night. I can cover for you.”

Richie leaned over the table across from him to grab Ben’s face and give him a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek. “Haystack, I fucking love you.”

“Fucking gross,” Ben protested, pushing Richie off and wiping his cheek. “Eddie, please tame him.”

“Never going to happen,” laughed Mike, throwing an arm around Eddie. “But we got you guy’s covered, always. Just say the word.”

“You guys are the best,” Eddie said fondly, leaning into Mike to reciprocate. Bill still looked deep in thought.

“I thuh-think you should try telling your m-mom,” he finally said slowly. Eddie burst into a slightly hysterical laughter. “I’m s-s-serious. If you’re firm and exp-plain, maybe she won’t let you see Ruh-Richie much after school, but maybe she’ll be less m-mad than if she finds out you’re going to be l-lying to her the next 3 months.”

“He’s got a point,” Richie sighed. “But, maybe you can lead with the gay thing before you mention we’re dating or she’ll have a fucking heart attack, since she _hates_ me for some goddamn reason. Ease into it.”

“I don’t know…” Eddie said, feeling a little uneasy. For some reason, he thought the word _Cadillac_ , like the fucking car, but was unsure why.

“We’ll figure it out, Eds,” Richie told him assuredly. “We’ll give this youth group thing a go once and maybe talk about it then, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Eddie agreed. He just had to deal with one night by himself at home, maybe catch up with some homework.

“Just don’t mention it until you get a call from Pastor Mark.”

“How exactly is that going to happen?”

“You’ll see,” Richie said, winking.

Eddie was on cloud nine the rest of the school day, barely able to concentrate on anything any of his teachers were saying. Honestly, he tried, but all he could think about was going to Richie’s tomorrow and that he had the best friends in the goddamn universe, and he was about to jump out of his skin with excitement. He had that dumb love-struck smile on his face the whole time Richie drove him back home, and it only faltered a little when Richie was pulling over off to the side of the road by a wooded area about a block before his house.

“Thinking of investing in property?” Eddie asked, looking out at the deserted, wooded land outside of the car, a ReMax property for sale sign visible. He turned to Richie, who was grinning and turned the radio music up a bit, and that’s when Eddie heard it. “Is that _my name?”_

“Sometimes when I’m driving alone I’ll put the station on and hope it comes on,” Richie admitted, sighing deeply. “It’s like the Teen Queens wrote this song knowing about us.”

Eddie giggled, blushing a bit from listening to the song. “Is this where ‘Eddie, my love,’ came from?”

“I’d like to think it was always mine, but yes.”

“You are such a fucking sap, Jesus.”

Richie was about to take off again, eager to get Eddie home to appease Sonia, but Eddie quickly leaned over, pulled him by the collar into a quick kiss.

“Just needed to get that out of the way before we’re in my mom’s eyesight.”

“Not complaining, Eds.”

Richie pulled up, and Eddie did not fail to notice his mother peering through their curtain to watch them.

“That’s my cue,” he said, flashing Richie a quick smile.

“Hey wait,” Richie said with a curious look on his face. “What were you talking to my dad about this morning?”

Eddie frowned, confused. “When? In the kitchen? We didn’t speak.”

“No, like, _really_ early this morning. I heard you guys talking about the hospital or some shit. I don’t know, I was half asleep.”

“Oh, that,” Eddie said, remembering. “I must have been talking in my sleep. I… I had a dream about my dad.”

“Oh,” said Richie, looking a little uncomfortable. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t know. You don’t talk about him much.” Eddie saw Richie’s brow furrow behind his glasses. “You turned the light on, though. I felt you sit up and move around.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “I was sleeping.”

“Huh. Maybe you’re starting to sleep walk?”

“I guess,” Eddie said, feeling a little uneasy. He didn’t like thinking about his body doing shit without his consent. “I should get going before my mom gets upset, though.”

“OK,” Richie said, nodding. “I’ll see you later, Spaghetti.”

Eddie was not surprised that his mother was out of her usual spot in the living room, eagerly trotting back and forth in the kitchen until Eddie came in.

“Well?” she asked right away, not giving him a goddamn second to breathe. “How as your dinner with Pastor Mark?”

“Great,” Eddie croaked before clearing his throat. “Great, yeah. He said he’s, uh, going to call later; something about a youth group meeting.”

Sonia beamed, and Eddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes back. “That’s excellent, sweetheart. I’m just so sorry he had to have that conversation with you with… that Richard there.”

Eddie resisted another urge to straight up knock her over the head. “We had some time to talk alone. Dr. Tozier was very accommodating.”

Sonia tsked. “You wonder how someone of his profession could raise a child like that. But I suppose that’s why he’s a _dentist,_ not a real doctor; not enough discipline.”

“You can’t say his kids don’t have great teeth, though” Eddie said thickly.

“Great teeth in filthy mouths. You watch your tone with me, Edward. I don’t want that rubbing off on you. Now, please take a shower, god knows what you’ve brought home from school and Richie’s house.”

Eddie apologized and retired upstairs, showering before sitting down on his bed in front of a textbook. He felt like he was just staring and drifting off in his stuffy room before he heard the phone ring downstairs. Eddie listened intently until he heard his mother call him down, leaping off in a swift motion and making his way down a little too eagerly. His mother looked absolutely _delighted,_ holding the phone out to him.

“It’s Pastor Mark,” she gushed. “I am just _so_ glad we’re getting back on his radar.”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie replied, suddenly nervous as he took the phone from her, wondering how the fuck Pastor Mark actually got around to calling and how he was going to have this conversation with his mother here. Thankfully, she waddled her way back to her chair in the living room, seemingly satisfied with whatever the Pastor had said, but he hesitated before putting the speaker up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Are my impersonations getting good or what?”

Eddie relaxed, breaking out into a wide grin. “Hi, _Pastor Mark_.”

“So, Ben confirmed that the youth group is tomorrow at like 6 PM. Maybe you can get away around 5. Even if you can’t spend the night, we can hang out until 8.”

“That sounds swell, Father.”

“Oh, please. Call me _Daddy_.”

“Jesus,” Eddie blurted out. “I mean, yes, Jesus is always the key. Jesus and prayer.”

He heard Richie chuckle on the other end. “Fucking Christ, Kaspbrak.”

“I can definitely bring my bible, sir,” Eddie said, keeping the charade up.

“Is that code for condoms? Like we’re going to fuck the shit out of each other tomorrow, right?”

“Richie!” Eddie hissed. He heard a creek, possibly his mother leaning over in her chair to eavesdrop. “Uh, yes, Richie Tozier is his name. I don’t know if he’d come or not, Father, but you can ask him.”

“I think Richie would _love_ to _come_ tomorrow, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie smacked his forehead, feeling how fucking _hot_ and flustered he was getting from this, and Richie was just having a ball on the other line. He was in love with an asshole. “Please stop,” he whispered low enough that he hoped his mother wouldn’t hear.

“All _right,_ sorry. I’m just busting your balls. Honestly, I don’t care if we do nothing but cuddle and watch Ace Ventura or some shit. I just need you here, Eds.”

“Thank you,” Eddie sighed. “I look forward to it.”

“And Eddie, I know you can’t say it back with your mom there and all, but… I love you,” Richie finished, his voice absolutely sincere and firm and Eddie felt himself fucking swoon. How is he supposed to get used to _that_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one thing I felt we were robbed of in the movies was the connection between this and The Shining; a lot of King characters possess some aspect of "shine," and one of those lovely lads is none other than Eddie fucking Kaspbrak. At some points in the book, Bill literally uses Eddie like a compass, because he just "knows" where to go and where everything seems to be in relation to it's space around him. 
> 
> Possessing the shine can give you powers of telepathy and/or clairvoyance, or "the ability to gain information about an object, person, location, or physical event through extrasensory perception." Thought it would be fun to explore this a little bit with Eddie, cause I haven't seen it much in fics here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is torn between his excitement for alone time with Richie and dread for alone time with his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it, two chapters in one night because I had it written. It's a little shorter, but I ended it where I felt it should for now. 
> 
> TW: more homophobic slurs, dumb pennywise trauma, verbal sexual harassment of a minor  
> and... very consensual sexual content.

The school day that Thursday was unbearably slow. All Eddie could think about was leaving his house and running to Richie’s and having almost 3 whole hours to themselves, sober, alone, _in fucking love._ One of the best things he noticed about school was that his friends acting no different than they ever had before. And even things with Richie were the same, because Eddie was seeing now how goddamn stupid he was to not realize this kid was in love with him, not notice the way looked at him like the best human on the planet. It made him think about a conversation with Bev months ago, when she called him from Portland and talked about Ben and said, “Eddie, no offense but boys are dumb. Honestly, I feel so bad for the gay ones because that’s just too much stupidity for a relationship.” That probably wasn’t a subtle hint either, Eddie realized now. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

“My dad isn’t going to get out of the office until 7,” Richie was saying during lunch.

“Stop,” Stan said suddenly. “Please do _not_ go into any more details about what you two are going to do alone.”

“Stan, you’re being homophobic.”

“I’m treating you with the same respect I treat Ben and Beverly, which is to tell you to shut the fuck up about your sex lives, thank you.”

“D-don’t you need some more spank material?” Bill said, grinning as Stan flashed him a death glare.

Bill had drove Eddie home, as he usually did on his days off work, and turned to Eddie just after putting his car in park in front of Eddie’s house. “Y-you think you’re going to t-tell her?”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess so. Richie thinks it’s a good idea.”

Bill contemplated for a moment. “You should tell her tomorrow.”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“Tell her in the m-morning. M-m-mention you have an exam or s-something tonight so you can’t miss school, then tell her over buh-breakfast. You can go to school while she kind of s-sits in it for a bit. You can th-think about any follow up stuff to bring up d-during school, depending on how she re-reacts. Then you can work through some shit over the w-weekend, appease her by going to church or m-maybe even just getting away and coming over to see wuh-one of us if she’s upset about it.”

“Huh. That could work.”

Bill shrugged. “M-might be best to rip the Band-Aid. It pr-probably won’t be that bad.”

“Let’s hope not,” Eddie said, but even as he gave Bill an assured smile, watching him pull out of Eddie’s driveway, Eddie couldn’t help but get a terrible feeling, and he kept thinking about a _Cadillac_ again, unsure why, still. He tried not to dwell on it, running into his house to shower and get ready. At least he had an excuse to look nice, his mother thinking he’d be going down to the church. He scrambled around his room to find cologne, which he had only worn a few times, but was very thankful that Bev had bought it for him for his birthday, because Richie had commented on it _every_ time he wore it.

Eddie was now getting nervous, which he realized was silly, because Richie wasn’t pushing him to _do_ anything, but really Eddie knew he _wanted_ to and Richie definitely did, too, and he wasn’t entire sure what the fuck they _could_ do. He didn’t exactly have much representation in media or role models to look up to. Eddie only knew that gay men were supposed to have anal sex… and how the fuck is that conversation going to start? Like, hey, man, you want to put our dick in my ass, or you want me to put mine in yours? Were either of them even mature enough for that conversation?

But no, that wasn’t a conversation they _had_ to have right now, if Eddie could muster up the courage to do so. Then he thought about blow jobs and, _oh boy_ , this was a lot, because he thought about how it was usually the girls that said no and slowed things down in a relationship, but neither of them were girls, and certainly neither of them was “the girl” in the relationship, which was kind of the whole point of being gay. Eddie wasn’t certain if he was going to want to take things slow or not, because sure it made him nervous, but he was also 18 and wanted to be with Richie for _years._ He had no idea if he was going to be frigid or act like a goddamn animal at Richie’s place, and neither would surprise him at this point.

He made sure to remind his mother that he was taking a bible with him before taking off, shoveling mashed potatoes and chicken down quickly.

“You sure you don’t want a ride, Eddie?” she asked curiously.

“No, Pastor Mark suggested prayer and contemplation before the group. The walk will be good.”

Sonia nodded. “Well, that’s good. Give him my wishes. Don’t forget to call when you get there,” she said, a sickly smile on her face that gave Eddie goosebumps. For some reason, a voice in the back of his head screamed _Pay phone!_ and he wasn’t really sure why.

“Ben said I could stay the night after. Would that be OK?”

“I don’t think so, Eddie. Not again this week.”

Worth a shot, Eddie thought. His excitement to see Richie subsided a little as he walked, unsure why his mother’s phone call request shook him so much. She always asked him to call everywhere except for school, and only because they notified her when he missed classes. When the Tozier door opened and he saw Richie standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, he expected his worry to wash away. However, he started feeling nauseous.

“Gotta call mom, first,” he said, practically running to Richie’s phone to get this shit out of the way. Maybe he was just getting sick of this shit, checking in with her despite being a grown ass adult already. He wished she would trust him, but he was also lying, so he supposed she technically had the right not to.

“Hello?” his mother’s voice came in rather harshly, startling Eddie a little.

 _Hang up, hang up!_ his brain kept screaming. “Hey, mom. Just calling to say I made it.”

There was an awkward silence for a brief moment before she replied. “I see. OK. Tell... tell Pastor Mark I said hi.”

 _It’s a trap!_ “I will,” he said. Why the fuck couldn’t his brain calm down? What the fuck was going on? “Love you, mom.”

She hung up, and Eddie put the phone down on the receiver slowly, Richie looking at him with concern.

“Everything OK?”

“I think so,” he said slowly. “I just… I don’t know, I feel nervous.”

Richie shuffled his feet. “You want to go upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, and slowly followed Richie up to his room.

“Uh, Penny is out,” Richie said awkwardly, letting Eddie go into his bedroom first. “I hope that’s OK.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Eddie asked before turning around. Richie shut the door behind him and Eddie suddenly felt it, that nervous electricity between them that had _nothing_ to do with his mother or the phone call.

“You, uh… want to watch a movie?” Richie asked innocently.

“No.”

He didn’t give Richie any chances for another suggestion or to respond before reaching out and pulling Richie into him. It was like his body was acting on autopilot now, no hesitation at all as he started kissing Richie, pulling them back towards Richie’s bed and letting Richie fall on top of him on the mattress and, fuck, Richie already had a semi and it just made Eddie pull him in harder.

“Jesus, Eds,” Richie gasped out when they finally broke, but Eddie wasn’t done, thank you very much, so he pulled Richie into him again, letting their wet tongues slide against each other as Richie started grinding into him, getting his own cock harder by the second.

Eddie felt his hands automatically find themselves into Richie’s hair, which had no business being this soft as it was messy, and felt Richie’s palm against his cheek, then down his chest, every inch of his skin burning under Richie’s graze, then making its way down further until he fully cupped Eddie, forcing him to gasp.

Richie pulled his face away, his hand still on Eddie’s crotch, a look on his face Eddie could not discern.

“What?” Eddie breathed. “Why’d you _stop?”_

“Nothing,” Richie said, but his voice broke a little and he _blushed_. “It’s just, like, in my mind I figured dicks were proportionate to body size, but… uh… you’re definitely bigger than me.”

Eddie blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Richie laughed sheepishly. “I don’t know, man. The guy in me is really jealous, but the gay in me is, like… really digging this.”

“Right. Well, uh, are you just going to, like, hold it like this or are you going to do something with it?”

Richie cocked an eyebrow. “Goddamn, I had no idea you’d be this feisty.”

“And I had no idea the Trashmouth would be out of his element when it came to fucking.”

Richie’s smile faltered a little, his hand over Eddie’s pants still unmoving. “Is – is that what we’re going to do?”

“What, fuck?”

“Sorry, yeah, I guess I’m a little… overwhelmed.”

Eddie breathed in slowly, trying not to concentrate on Richie’s hand still very much on his dick. “OK. That’s… like you said, we don’t have to do anything, right?”

Richie finally placed his hand on Eddie’s thigh now ( _why why why put it back)_ and he looked down at Eddie, looking like he was figuring something out.

“Have you ever, uh… fingered yourself?”

“Have I _what_?” Eddie blurted out. And he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the question; someone just doesn’t shove a dick in there without some warm up, right?

“I mean, I have,” Richie said, looking down a little shyly, and Eddie wasn’t sure how long it would take to get used to Richie being embarrassed by anything sexual. “So, like… if you wanted to, like, do that... And if you want to top when we finally… you know?”

Top? Oh, right. Gay slang. Eddie needed to get used to that. “We can keep making out a bit, Rich. I’m not just trying to score or anything, promise. It’s been two days, there’s no rush. I mean, Christ, it’s just _me._ ”

He took Richie’s chin in his hand to bring Richie’s gaze back into his own for a moment before kissing him again, trying his best not to be as sloppy this time. It was slow and steady, but it was getting hot, quite literally hot and Eddie could feel their nerves getting the best of them as they stripped themselves, feeling Richie’s pulse quickening under his bare skin, and his own thudding loudly in his ears. And when they had gotten down their boxers, _Jesus Christ_ , their thin-as-shit boxers the only fucking thing separating them from the intense heat and hardness between their legs, they shifted and grinded into each other and honest to god, Eddie wouldn’t mind if this was all they did, feeling their cocks against each other and the sticky, hot skin of their chests gliding with deep, heavy breaths. Every single place Richie touched was fucking _burning_ , and Richie started kissing down his neck, the sensation on the supple skin there sending a direct signal to his primal reactions, thrusting up with every press of Richie’s lips there.

“Rich,” Eddie breathed as he felt Richie nibbling down on his collar bone. “I want to try it.”

“Try what?” he felt Richie’s breathe on his skin.

“What you said before. Fingering. You can do it to me.”

Richie pulled off and looked at him intently. “You sure?”

Eddie nodded, surprised at his own confidence right now. He pulled Richie’s hand up to his face and slid Richie’s index and middle finger into his mouth, like Richie had done two nights ago, and Richie fucking _moaned_ again when Eddie sucked down on them, coating them with his own saliva before pulling them back out. “No reason not to take turns, right?”

“Jesus,” Richie moaned again, kissing Eddie fiercely again while Eddie shimmied them both out of their boxers.

And that was it, the skin on skin of their hard cocks that made Eddie’s brain scream _YES_ , and he was surprised to feel how comfortable he was by Richie’s touch on him _there_ , because even _he_ didn’t touch himself there, but he was somehow OK with this. He made himself relax, breathing slowly while Richie fingered the rim a little before gently pushing in.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed.

“You OK?”

“Yup. Just… weird. Not bad. Just different.”

“Tell me if you want to stop, OK?”

Eddie nodded.

“Just give me a minute, because I’m doing this backwards from how I normally do myself.”

He wasn’t sure what Richie meant, or what he needed a minute for, but felt Richie push in one then two fingers a little more with each of Eddie’s breaths. It was true, it wasn’t bad, and he wondered what would prompt Richie to do this to himself until –

“Oh _fuck.”_

Richie smirked. “There it is.”

For a moment, Eddie thought he was going to come right then and there, the intensity swelling in his gut, but Richie kept pressing that spot and it just kept building, and Jesus Christ, OK, he could _definitely_ see the appeal in this, and honestly how could someone argue against gay sex when Eddie had _this_ little fucker hiding up his ass this whole time? Eddie threw his head back, his back aching up, almost unable to handle the pleasure waves going through him right now, his breath hitching every few seconds, and Richie’s breath got more ragged as he was grinding himself into Eddie’s hip.

Eddie reached around Richie’s waist to pull him up against him, his other snaking down to pull his cock onto his own and started jerking them both off, and Richie started muttering expletives, pressing his face into Eddie’s neck, pressing his fingers deeper into Eddie and harder, and Eddie pumped his fist faster between them until a guttural noise escaped his throat and he thought he was going to explode by the shocking final release hit him, feeling his and then Richie’s warm come spill onto his fingers and belly, Richie’s other hand tugging the hairs on his head as he shook above Eddie in orgasm before he collapsed heavily on Eddie’s chest.

“Holy… shit,” Eddie said hoarsely, gasping slightly as Richie pulled his fingers out of him.

“Sorry,” Richie said, pushing himself off. “Oh, ew.”

Eddie looked down and couldn’t help but laugh because, definitely ew, both their come splattered between their bellies and Eddie’s hand. “Can you get a towel?”

Richie reached over and grabbed his under shirt, and Eddie didn’t argue as he watched Richie clean them both off, admiring how careful he was with Eddie.

“I’m not that much bigger,” Eddie found himself saying, looking between the two of them.

“Well, no, they’ve both retreated; size doesn’t count when they’re soft.” Richie threw his shirt off towards the general direction of his laundry hamper and leaned down to kiss Eddie’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed contentedly as Richie rolled over onto his side. “This was… wow.”

“I… concur,” Richie said between heavy breaths. He felt Richie turn and pull Eddie into his chest, Eddie nuzzling into Richie’s neck comfortably as Richie sighed into his hair. “I love you, Eds.”

Eddie smiled into Richie’s skin. “I love you, too.”

Unfortunately, Eddie knew he couldn’t get too comfortable, and lifted himself off of a protesting Richie to check the time.

“We have to be careful not to fall asleep. I have to leave in an hour and a half.”

Richie sighed, but didn’t argue. They dressed and crawled back into bed, opting to put on the cable instead of a VHS to relax to, content spending their night like this, Richie propped up against his pillows, his arm around Eddie, who was nestled into his side, leaning his head back onto Richie’s shoulder.

“You know the Joker is Luke Skywalker, right?” Richie said during the second episode of Batman: The Animated Series.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Check the title cards. Mark Hamill. Motherfucker turned to the dark side.”

“He sounds so…”

“Deranged? Yeah, he’s a fucking genius. I totally get a hard on just listening to him. I named my right hand Luke for so many reasons.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and looked over at the clock again. 7:56 PM.

“Shit. I have to get going. Mom wants me home right after.” Richie squeezed Eddie around the waist. “C’mon, Rich; let me go.”

“Ugh, fine.” Richie untangled them, swinging his legs off the bed. “Can I at least drive you to the corner and have you walk the rest of the way? It’s freezing.”

“Yeah, I suppose that should be fine,” Eddie said, slipping his shoes on, that sickly nausea suddenly creeping back, and that voice in his head said _Cadillac_ , and then he heard another voice, which actually startled him because it was almost as if it was there, whispering in his ear, the voice he gave his father in his dreams, saying, _Stay!_

“You OK?”

“Yeah,” Eddie lied, grabbing the bible on his way out of Richie’s room, the stupid blue Precious Moments bible with the little creepy kids with big heads.

“Oh, hey Eddie!” Wentworth called from the kitchen, setting his phone down when he saw the boys heading towards the door. “You staying for dinner? Just ordered Chinese.”

“Already ate, thanks,” Eddie said, smiling back at him. He looked back at Richie. “When is your mom coming back?”

“Tomorrow,” Richie sighed. “God, I miss her food. Delivery folks in this town must be ecstatic. Be right back, Dad!”

Eddie was fidgety the entire ride, uneasy and panicky. He told himself it often didn’t do too well to panic, but he didn’t feel like he was having a panic attack. This felt more like dread, and usually this accompanied something awful happening, like getting detention, or encountering a shape shifting space monster.

“Richie,” he said suddenly. “What did Pennywise look like for you when you were alone?”

Richie looked a little startled by this, and Eddie didn’t blame him, because it wasn’t something they just _brought up_ , but it came out of his mouth like word vomit.

“Uh, well,” Richie started, pulling over to the curb around the corner from Eddie’s house. “You know the Paul Bunyan statue?”

“Yeah?”

“That thing… chased me. It was fucking terrifying. It was right after Bowers chased me out of the arcade, calling… calling me a faggot in front of everyone.” Richie sighed deeply. Eddie felt the emotional pull on his heart, truly empathetic to how that public torment felt. “I'm not sure if it was Pennywise or not, but Patrick... Patrick Hockstetter had pummeled me on the kissing bridge. He didn't, like... _do_ anything to me, but he kept telling me all this shit he said I'd _like_ him to do to me, like fucking me on the bridge and making me suck his dick. But it was Patrick, so who knows. Could've been him. Could've been the clown. I wasn't sure if it was before or after Patrick went missing. Before that… It was you.”

“Me?”

Richie nodded. “It was pretending to be you so I’d follow you into, like, this clown doll infested room on Neibolt. And then It looked like you, but with this black, tarry blood pouring out of your mouth, like you got stabbed in the guts and it was all bleeding out of you.” Richie was staring off, almost like he was looking out at something that wasn’t there. He shook it off and turned to look at Eddie, sniffling but otherwise dry-eyed. “Why do you ask?”

Eddie gulped, the sound loud as a gunshot in his head filling the silence of the car. “Before I saw the leper… I saw you. You were in my shower in the locker room at school. You were still a leper but, you were… taunting me. That’s when I realized I was gay. That stupid fucking clown knew before I did. You – not you-you, obviously – the not-you thing used some… colorful language to describe it. It made me feel sick and not just nausea sick, but really sick the way my mom always said, like I had this disease just waiting dormant under my skin. And when it was over and I thought about it, I realized It was right.”

“Not about everything,” Richie said softly, reaching over to hold Eddie’s hand. “It only knew that you were scared. That’s the only thing It was right about. We’re not sick. Love isn’t an illness, Eddie.”

“I know,” said Eddie, his voice barely more than a whisper. He didn’t want to go home. He felt like he was going into the sewers all over again. Why was it so hard to go home?

Richie squeezed his hand. “It’ll be OK, Eds. She’s your mom. Worst case scenario she tries to ground you like when we were kids, and you tell her to fuck off because you’re 18 and you can sneak back out to my place.”

Eddie smiled tightly, squeezing Richie’s hand back. “Yeah. OK.”

Eddie could feel Richie watching him walk a bit before turning his car around and heading home, careful not to show his car on Eddie’s street anywhere near Sonia’s possible eyeshot. Eddie tried to steady his breathing, and he felt like he might’ve ended his night with Richie in a regretful way. He should’ve been happy, he should’ve gave Richie a long, deep kiss good night, and show him how happy he was to be _his_ , to finally absolutely be all his. But he moped the whole way home, and he couldn’t wait until morning to tell Richie he was sorry for being so pouty and weird about everything, and he meant it when he said _I love you, you dumb fucking idiot_ , especially because he still didn’t know why he was feeling like this. _Get your shit together, Eddie,_ he told himself, sighing into the late winter air. He looked up as he approached his home and froze dead in his tracks. A second car was in his driveway. A fucking –

“Cadillac,” Eddie said aloud. A light blue, ‘92 Cadillac Brougham. He didn’t know anyone that drove this car, but a deep, primal feeling in his gut screamed _RUN!_ But he couldn’t run, he had to go in and face his mother. It would be fine. It… would be fine. Eddie hesitated before unlocking his front door, carefully closing it behind him and taking his jacket off to hang up. He still clung to his bible; the house felt like it had just suddenly been hushed by his presence. His mother wasn’t in the living room, and he walked slowly towards the kitchen, where he felt his chest constrict so tightly he couldn’t breathe.

“Hello, Edward.” Pastor Mark. Pastor goddamn fucking Mark _was in his kitchen WHY IS HE IN MY KITCHEN?_

Eddie didn’t respond. He didn’t dare meet his mother’s eyes, which he could feel piercing into him.

“I guess I should leave now, Mrs. Kaspbrak,” Pastor Mark spoke again, offering Sonia a small smile. “If you’re still interested in the program, please let me know. We never hesitate to help those in need.”

“Thank you father,” Eddie heard his mother say, still refusing to look at her. He couldn’t even fucking move, every fiber of his being screaming at him to get the fuck out of dodge, but he absolutely fucking couldn’t. He made a noncommittal noise as Pastor Mark wished him goodnight, and he kept his eyes fixated on the kitchen counter behind the table, sweat building on his palms. It was quiet for what felt like hours, or maybe just a few seconds, before his mother spoke again. “We got a new phone today, Eddie. I picked it up this morning while you were at school. Guess you didn’t notice.”

Eddie dared move his eyes over to where the house phone usually was, and his heart sank when he saw the new landline, which a large digital screen; caller ID. Caller. Fucking. ID. He called from Richie’s house. He was so, _so_ fucking dead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is in some deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos!
> 
> TW: Past child abuse, current abuse, homophobia and homophobic language.

In October of ’92, Stanley Uris made a great effort to ensure that Eddie Kaspbrak made it to his homecoming dance. Eddie did not care too much for making a big deal enough to go to the school events, already defeated by his mother’s lectures of hyper sexual high school girls, perverted modern music, and what those things could do to her poor Eddie-bear. But homecoming that year was special, because it was Ben and Mike’s first football season and Beverly convinced her aunt to let her take the Greyhound Bus to Derry and see her boyfriend play football and dance with her loser friends at their loser high school.

“How are you possibly going to pull this off?” Eddie had asked, watching his friends purchase their homecoming tickets.

“You’re going to tell your mother you’re attending Shabbot with me,” Stan said. “She won’t get suspicious about you getting dressed up. I’ll even pick you up and bring you a kippah.”

“Your parents won’t say anything?”

“They think _I_ will be at home studying PSAT shit,” Stan said bluntly. “My parents will be at a rehearsal wedding my father is ordaining, they’ll be out late.”

“Stan,” Eddie moaned. “You’re going to get in trouble trying to cover both our asses.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Stan handed Eddie his ticket, a smug smile on his face. “Just do me one favor; if Richie asks you to dance, just go with it.”

“What?” Eddie laughed nervously, feeling his face get hot. “Why would I dance with _Richie?_ ”

Stan chuckled. “He dances with _everyone_ , don’t flatter yourself. Just do it so I don’t have to.”

Stan, of course, had been lying, because a) he knew Richie was dying to dance with Eddie and b) twenty bucks was twenty bucks if the dumbass finally made a real move.

And maybe, just maybe, had the two of them not been having such a good time, and Richie had not convinced Eddie he’d take him home and would drop him off around the corner so his mother wouldn’t see, they would’ve ended the night more pleasantly. But alas, Sonia Kaspbrak was outside their school gym, leaning against her car from a distance, and Eddie could just _feel_ her there, staring. Richie tried to lighten the mood, but Eddie brushed him off and woefully made his way to his mother’s car, where they sat in silence all the way home, before she finally went off on him in the kitchen. Eddie was at least able to save Stan’s reputation, because Stan had already gone home and Eddie convinced her he went to the dance after leaving Stan, but he was screwed.

“I didn’t go with a girl, mom!” Eddie had tried to argue. “I swear, I just went with my friends to hang out, I wanted to celebrate Mi – Ben’s first homecoming on the team!” And he knew not to mention Mike, because his mother _hated_ Mike.

“You don’t think I know that Beverly girl was there? I don’t want her filthy hands anywhere near _my_ son, Eddie! I don’t need some white trash slut – ”

Eddie had been so used to being on the defense with his friends, ready to defend them to no end, that he could not stop himself when he snapped, “Fuck you!” and was on the floor in half a second, bleeding from his nose, looking up at his mother who stood with a fucking _rolling pin_ she whipped off the counter to smack the defiance out of him.

“You will never – I repeat – never lie to me about where you are going ever again. Do you understand me?”

Eddie sat there in slight shock, blood dripping down to his nice button-up, having not until that moment realized how strong his mom still was against him – because let’s face it, he was still _tiny_ , and she had done a great job keeping him fed enough at home to live but not exactly put on weight, and she still towered over him at age 16. So he nodded his head, apologized profusely for being such a terrible son, and never lied about where he would be again.

Not until now, at least.

“Mom…” now 18 year old Eddie started, but she cut him off.

“Sit down.”

Her voice was quiet, but dripping with venom and Eddie did not hesitate to sit down, still avoiding her gaze, his limbs shaking so wildly he felt like he was vibrating as he set the small bible down on the table.

“This is what is going to happen, Eddie,” she continued in that threateningly calm tone. “We’re going to take away all of those horrible influences you have… get you set up to finish your education through a home school track, since I cannot risk another day, let alone 3 months of this going on. You will get your school work done at a youth program Pastor Mark has recommended for us near Sebago Lake, near that cancer kid camp. You’ll be there while you finish up your school work… or longer, if needed. Do you understand?”

Eddie continued to stare at the table. “No.”

He saw his mother’s fist clench, her skin reddening, but when she spoke, her voice was not raised. “I don’t think I heard you correctly, Edward.”

He looked up directly into her eyes. “No. I’m not doing that.”

Sonia sighed. “Eddie… do you know what could happen… if you kept hanging around a queer like Richie Tozier?”

“Don’t call him that!” Eddie snapped.

“He’s _sick,_ Eddie. And you may not realize this, but they have ways of making that sickness catch, getting you to be _one_ of them. I thought if I kept an eye on you, maybe those _tendencies_ of his wouldn’t influence you, but I’m afraid you were just too impressionable and delicate for him to manipulate. But I don’t want you to worry, because the church down south has a lot of boys like you that lack proper resistance – ”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie interrupted, not sorry at all. “But how do you think sticking me alone with a bunch of boys is going to make me less gay?”

“DON’T!” Sonia shouted, banging her fist on the table, forcing Eddie to flinch. “Do not use that word again. You’re not… you are just _confused_ Eddie, and it’s not entirely your fault. You haven’t had a male influence at home, someone to help guide you that way.”  
“Dad didn’t care,” Eddie blurted out, and he knew there was no way for him to know this, but deep down something told him he was right. “Dad would just be happy that I was happy. I’m not _sick_ , mom!”

“I don’t know how much you remember about your father, Eddie. But when you knew him, he was very ill. The medicine did things to his brain, made him say things and act unnaturally.”

“You always thought he was weak,” Eddie continued, and he shouldn’t know this, there was no way he could know any of this, but the words started spilling out. “You made him feel weak and pathetic, like he needed you and you got pregnant to make sure he’d stay with you, because he didn’t love you but he loved _me,”_ and Eddie was standing now and he _shouldn’t_ know any of this, but he kept going, “And he tried to get me out of this goddamn house before you could ruin my life like you did to him, and you wouldn’t have it so you kept making him sicker, and sicker, and _you_ told me it was cancer because I was too young to understand what was going on, but it was _YOU!_ I’m not going to let you become so desperate to control me that you kill me, too!”

The last word hung in the air thick like humidity; the only sound now in the room was Eddie’s ragged breaths through his nostrils as his mother stared up at him, bewildered and a little scared. But while Eddie managed to maintain his breathing, she quickly composed herself, folding her fat hands together across the table.

“I am going to contact Pastor Mark in the morning – ”

“I’m not going,” Eddie said again. “I’m an adult. You can’t make me go.”

Sonia took a deep breath in, and continued as though she did not hear him. “I am going to call Pastor Mark tomorrow to set up the transportation. The church is going to help me get you transferred to a homeschool schedule.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I’m going to bed right now, and then I’m to school tomorrow. Good night.” Eddie pushed his chair in, turning to leave, but he heard his mother get up from her own chair behind him. Eddie turned on his heal to snap at her again –

 _SMACK_!

Eddie fell hard on his ass, trying to compose himself before his mother hit him one, two, three more times in the face, until his brain finally reacted and he reached up to grab the metal frying pan in her hand.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!” he snapped up at her, tasting blood in his mouth. His face felt wet and swollen all on the left side where she had hit him.

“I am _not_ going to stand for this, Eddie!” his mother wailed at him, attempting to pull the frying pan back from him. “I am still your _mother_! I know what’s best for you, why can’t you see that?”

“Bullshit!” Eddie shouted, and finally yanked the pan from her grip, causing her to stagger back a bit. He took the brief opportunity to get up, dizzy and heavy-headed, but standing his ground nonetheless.

“Eddie, please,” his mother was _begging_ now. “You need help. It’s an _illness,_ Eddie! They all end up catching AIDS, and I cannot live with myself if I have to sit back and watch my son turn into one of those disease-ridden _faggots._ ”

Maybe it was because he was exhausted from doing this for 18 years, or because he was so angry he entered into an otherworldly mindset of calm, but Eddie digested his mother’s words and set the frying pan down on the kitchen floor, not saying another word, and walked out. He kept walking, ignoring his mother’s wails and cries, cutting them off as he slammed the front door behind him and he walked in the freezing March air down to the sidewalk, turning now to go back to Richie’s. No one came after him. The streets were quiet, and so were Eddie’s thoughts and he seemed to be walking on autopilot. It wasn’t until he was on Richie’s street that he started to come to, his limbs getting heavy and stiff from the cold, and he kind of wished he grabbed his jacket on the way out of his house, but he was also welcoming the numbness.

Eddie sighed as he approached the porch, watching the cloud of his breath fill the space around him before knocking on the door. What had happened was trying to make itself sink in, and he stood there shoving it down, not ready to deal with it yet. Eddie tried steadying his breath, breathing in and out slowly through his nostrils, but it came out wheezing, and he was half tempted to reach for an inhaler that he no longer carried. The front door of the Tozier house opened slowly, and Eddie saw Wentworth’s expression quickly transition from annoyance to shock before he whipped the door open.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, what the hell happened? Get in,” he said, moving aside to let Eddie into the warmth of their home.

“Eddie’s back?” came Richie’s voice from the kitchen, where the smell of Lo Mein and teriyaki was carrying its way towards the foyer.

“Eddie,” Wentworth said again, forcing Eddie’s face to his. “What happened?”

Eddie opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak, unsure where or how to start. Finally after a moment he simply said, “Mom.”

Wentworth’s jaw clenched. “OK. Alright… let’s get you fixed up. Richie, come into the den restroom!” he called out, before leading Eddie down the hall. He sat Eddie on the toilet, taking a clean rag from the sink and running it under some hot water. Richie finally came into view, the color from his face draining once he laid eyes on Eddie.

“Eds?” he croaked. “Wha – ”

“Richie, press this against his forehead to help the bleeding until I get back,” Wentworth said, thrusting the rag into Richie’s hands before going back to his office. “Apply pressure but be gentle.”

Richie nodded, immediately coming over to kneel in front of Eddie, who wasn’t fully aware of how open the wound on his forehead was until Richie pressed against it and he hissed.

“Sorry!” Richie exclaimed and pulled the rag back a little before pressing down again with more ease, using his other hand to cradle the right side of Eddie’s face. There was a small noise from the door that sounded like a mouse, but he didn’t get a chance to see anything before Richie kicked the door shut with his foot. “Fuck off, Penelope! Christ.” Richie shook his head. “You know, sometimes I call her Pennywise behind her back. Not that she knows who the fuck that is, but it makes me feel better. Shit, you’d think I’d know what I was doing by now hanging around you all the time, Dr. K…” Eddie attempted to smile back, but it probably looked more like a grimace; Richie’s brow furrowed, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Eddie’s cheek as he held his face. “Eds… what happened?”

“I told you most people aren’t too keen on having a fag in the family,” Eddie said. He might’ve meant to say it to lighten the mood, but it came out with some bite, and he regretted saying it the moment it came out. The moment of silence between them was thick with tension as Wentworth returned.

“Hey, Rich,” he said, a small box and a flannel blanket in his arms. “Go give your mother a call, will ya?”

“What the hell is she supposed to do from New Hampshire?” Richie said, finally looking away from Eddie.

Wentworth sighed. “Can you just let her know Eddie is going to be staying with us; and you’ll be missing school tomorrow?”

“Oh – right, OK. I’ll be right back,” Richie said to Eddie apologetically, placing the bloody rag in the sink.

“You don’t want us to go to school?” Eddie asked.

“I think you deserve a break. Let Richie take you out somewhere. I’ll talk to the school tomorrow and let them know what’s going on.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to act or what to say as Wentworth draped the blanket around Eddie’s shoulders, before proceeding to pull on some latex gloves.

“You’re not going to pull my teeth, are you?” Eddie asked.

Wentworth let out a small laugh, starting to examine Eddie’s face. “No. But I’m going to stitch you up. Hopefully your nose isn’t broken.”

Eddie started to feel calm, very grateful for the warmth of the blanket now around his body, and beginning to relax as Richie’s dad started disinfecting his face to clean him up. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how much of his life he had spent in doctor’s offices, but there was something about a quiet examination that made him feel so serene, a gentle tingle starting at the crown of his head, like there was a little humming bird joyfully fluttering in his brain. Eddie was taken out of his trance, however, when he heard a loud bang from upstairs that made him jump; it sounded like Richie had banged into something – or perhaps punched it, which might have been more likely.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” Wentworth said suddenly. “But whatever it was that you think you did wrong… Jesus, even if you _did_ do something, it doesn’t warrant a reaction like this. You know that, right Eds?”

There was something about Richie’s _dad_ calling him Eds, plus the sheer affection and caregiving he was receiving that finally started making Eddie’s eyes burn. He licked his lips, blinking back his tears to stop them from running, simply nodding. He continued to stay still so Wentworth could start stitching his forehead, unsure if he should tell Richie’s parents really why the argument started. His friends had reacted better than he expected… his mother, on the other hand, had been severely worse than he imagined. Eddie hoped, maybe, if he said something, the worse they would do was make Eddie sleep on the couch instead of Richie’s room. Fuck it.

“She found out I was gay,” Eddie finally said.

Wentworth did not look surprised, but he shook his head sadly, snipping the ends of the stitches across Eddie’s eyebrow. “Will she know you came here? Does she know about Richie, too?”

 _Richie, too?_ “Um… yeah. She figured… that that’s what was happening,” Eddie said carefully. “You… knew?”

“For a while,” Wentworth said simply, pulling out a tongue depressor and small flashlight.

“Couldn’t help yourself with the teeth, huh?”

Wentworth chuckled. “Just gotta see if there’s any swelling or broken teeth.”

“Why didn’t you become a doctor?” Eddie asked without thinking.

“Thought about it. But there was this hot babe I was dating in my town; we had a dental school and I didn’t want to risk going away to medical school and lose her. Plus, my dad wanted me to go to medical school and I hated my dad. Made me feel better to piss him off.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He was a prick,” Wentworth said thickly, and Eddie was a little surprised. “You know, stereotypical abusive alcoholic, beat the shit out of us and my mom all the time. I swore after I left I’d never lay a finger on any of my kids.” His eyes darted quickly around the bruises on Eddie’s face.

“What happened to the hottie?”

“Married her,” Wentworth smiled. “Can you open your mouth?”

Eddie complied, and when he opened his jaw he felt something off on the back left side, like gravel was grinding against his teeth. Wentworth started tapping around until Eddie felt a sharp pain that made him wince; Wentworth reached in with the gloved-fingers of his clean hand and – with a sharp but quick sting – pulled out a bloody tooth.

“You lied to me.”

“I’m afraid I did. Sorry, kid, but you would’ve ended up swallowing it. I’ll get that fixed up Saturday. In the meantime, use the antibacterial rinse in the cabinet upstairs, Richie will show you.”

“I’m still staying upstairs?”

Wentworth smiled, pulling his gloves off to toss in the trash. “Don’t see why Richie can’t have his boyfriend share the bed; you’re both adults.”

 _Boyfriend._ He was about ready to cry again. Dr. Tozier knew and didn’t even care, and now Eddie felt like an asshole for how he was acting the other morning, leaving for school with Richie and acting cold when Richie tried to kiss him in the kitchen. “Th-thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, Eds.”

Richie was just outside the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, tapping his foot. He stood up straight when Eddie saw him, offering a small smile. “You hungry?” he asked. “The microwave still sounds like the predator, but I can heat you up some Chinese?”

“No,” Eddie said honestly. He pulled the blanket right around his shoulders. “Just tired.”

“You both should probably get some rest,” Wentworth said, closing the door behind him, some bloody tissues and Eddie’s tooth balanced on a rag in the box he carried.

“Seriously, dad? Was the tooth necessary, or did you just get dentist-trigger-happy?”

“It broke off,” Eddie said. “Thanks again, Dr. T.”

Richie walked carefully beside Eddie up to his room, his hand gently pressed on the small of Eddie’s back, as though ready to catch him at a moment’s notice if he started to fall. Eddie tried to inconspicuously wipe the tears off his face, wanting to assure Richie that he was OK as he sat on the bed, watching Richie pull out some pajamas for him to wear.

“This is my fault,” Richie said, handing Eddie some clothes. “I shouldn’t have pushed you into telling her.”

“I didn’t tell her. She found out on her own. Besides, it wouldn’t be your fault anyway. Don’t put that on yourself.” He looked down at the clothes for a moment. “When did you tell your parents?”

“I never told them about us.”

Eddie shook his head. “Your dad knew you were gay. When did you tell him?”

Richie bit his lip. “Promise you won’t get upset?”

“I promise,” Eddie said, wondering how that would be possible, as it wasn’t any of his business if he told his parents about his own sexuality.

Richie took in a long, deep sigh. “Homecoming, last year; the one your mom caught you at.”

Eddie frowned. It was certainly an odd time to do so. “Explain.”

Richie sat down on the floor across from where Eddie sat on his bed, pulling his legs in to rest his chin on his knees. “I came home crying. Well, I came home and was kind of fine, but then my mom asked me how the dance was and I just lost it. Like, I’m talking bawling in my mom’s lap like toddler crying.”

“Why were you crying? Because of my mom?”

Richie shook his head. “Do you remember… the conversation we had after you saw her waiting for you?”

Eddie thought back to that night, fear-stricken and frozen outside of the school gym when he realized his mother had caught him. He remembered Richie unabashedly lighting a cigarette in her eyesight, causing Eddie to fume.

“Dude, cut that shit out!”

“Fuck her; you’re already in trouble,” Richie said before taking a drag. He swung an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “What’s the worst she can do to you that she hasn’t done already?”

“Richie, stop,” Eddie said, his face reddening, feeling his mother glare at them.

“Stop what?” Richie smirked, looking at him with such love and adoration, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder now how he didn’t realize Richie had feelings for him.

And Eddie remembered what he had done then, and god help him if he could only take it back now: he threw Richie’s arm off of him, embarrassed and cold and angry, and snapped, “Dude, stop acting like such a _queer_!” before storming off towards his mother.

“Oh, no,” he said now, the realization hitting him now in the present. “Fuck, Richie, I am so, so sorry…”

“Yeah,” Richie said, nodding. “I’m not gonna lie, that fucking hurt. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I went home, cried to my mom like a bitch, and I remember her being really confused. She was stroking my hair and was like, ‘Is it Beverly? Is it because she’s with Ben?’ and I just said, ‘No, it’s Eddie, mom. Eddie.’ And then I just heard my dad say like, ‘Oh, well that kind of all makes sense now.’” Richie chuckled at the memory, but Eddie still didn’t feel any less shitty. “Anyway, they’re OK with it. It took a while for them to get used to, but it wasn’t anything I could hold against them. I kind of shattered their entire foresight of my future, you know? Grandkids, a daughter-in-law for my mom to be buds with… but they adjusted.”

“I’m really sorry, Richie,” Eddie was saying again.

“You promised you wouldn’t get upset,” Richie said, managing to smile. “Really, Eds, I’m not upset or angry that it happened. Trust me, I get it.” He sat himself up, scooting over so he was in front of Eddie on his knees. With Eddie sitting on the low bed, they were about the same height like this. He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him in close. “How are you holding up, huh?”

Eddie was going to say he was fine, but he watched Richie’s eyes wander around the various bruises around his face, and they were really starting to hurt. He thought about how ready his mom was to hurt him, send him away, and about how Richie’s parents just… accepted him. And they accepted _Eddie,_ without any hesitation, something his own mother could never do, and all the emotions he was supposed to feel over the last hour sunk in and it felt like someone dropped dry ice into his chest before he let out his first sob. With every breath he tried to steady himself, it just came out harder, and Richie pulled him into his chest, not seeming to care how much of Eddie’s tears or drool was getting on his shirt while Eddie ugly-cried into him. They sat like this for some time, Richie silently holding onto Eddie while he let it all out. He was at a point he didn’t even _want_ to pull away, even to look at Richie, embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but when he started calming down and hiccupping, Richie pulled back to take Eddie’s chin in his hand. Eddie didn’t even realize Richie had been crying, too, until this point, and it made him want to sob more.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie muttered thickly. He was 90% sure there was snot on his face. He wished he could go back to when they were snuggling pleasantly on this bed post-orgasm and watching stupid cartoons.

“Why don’t you go change and wash up?” Richie offered.

100% sure there was fucking snot on his face now, Eddie nodded, taking the clothes with him into the restroom. He hadn’t bothered to look before now, so catching himself in the mirror was startling to say the least. The frying pan really did a number on his face. His face was fucked up; there was no way around that. The stitched up cut on his forehead reached down to his eyebrow, turning a gross dark purple color, and blotches of bruises covered the left side of his face; add his dried blood, tears, and snot, he looked like a fucking Jackson Pollock painting. He rinsed his face off as much as he could, careful around the stitches above his eye, and changed into Richie’s oversized clothes, tucking the bottoms of the sweatpants into his socks so he wouldn’t trip.

Eddie turned the bathroom light off, stopping short in his tracks when he looked at the wall above their hall phone. His assumption had been correct; apparently Richie had punched a hole in the wall above their telephone while Eddie was downstairs. He quietly closed the bathroom door behind him, returning to Richie’s room where he saw Richie steeping some tea on the bedside table, finally noticing the small bruises developing on Richie’s knuckles.

“It’s got ginger in it,” Richie said as Eddie walked in. “Just in case you swallowed some blood. Ginger is supposed to be good on your stomach.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, dropping his old clothes in Richie’s laundry. He caught eye of Richie’s undershirt that was on the floor, picking it up to discard it in the basket, only to realize which shirt it was and started snickering. “Dude, can you believe just a few hours ago, you had your fingers up my ass?”

Richie started cackling, the sound washing away some of Eddie’s nerves. “Holy shit, dude. What a night, huh? Fuck.”

Eddie smirked back at him. “We should definitely do that again soon.” Eddie turned the ceiling light off, light from the muted television still illuminating the room, and plopped down in the small space between Richie and the nightstand, snuggling into Richie’s side, taking the tea carefully to start blowing on it. “Hey, Rich… did you punch the wall?”

Richie grunted his confirmation. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” Eddie admitted. “But please don’t destroy your house because my mom is a cunt.” He felt Richie’s breath hitch. “Well, she is, isn’t she?”

“I called the other Loser’s,” Richie said, electing to ignore Eddie’s comment. “Just needed to fill them in on what happened so they don’t worry tomorrow when we don’t show up. Bill is really, really upset; feels like it’s his fault.”

“Bill thinks everything is his fault. What else did they say?”

There was a suspicious pause before Richie responded. “Nothing. I mean, obviously they want updates and to make sure you’re OK, but they were really quick phone calls.”

Eddie suspected there was more than Richie let on, but he didn’t push it. He took a sip of the tea, which was very good; the spice burned his throat, but he supposed it was the way ginger was supposed to. He was starting to realize how exhausted he was, muscles aching from the adrenaline, cold, and stress. His head was beginning to pound, so he took some Tylenol Richie had brought from downstairs when he made Eddie his tea.

Richie had turned the TV volume up a little bit just enough for noise to help drown their thoughts as they settled into sleep. Eddie laid there, Richie’s arm draped around his waist, his breathing against his neck slowing down as Richie started drifting off beside him. Eventually, the TV shut off on a timer Richie had set, and the room was quiet and black. Eddie felt his eyelids get heavy, but there was a deep, unsettling feeling creeping in, thinking back at the things he had said to his mother.

“Richie,” Eddie whispered into the darkness through a deep yawn. “I think my mom killed my dad.”

There was no response but Richie’s light snoring; Eddie fell deep into sleep before he could contemplate it any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! This chapter wasn't very fun, and wrote a bit from what a friend of mine went through; fuck parents like this, though.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie can attest that Losers make the best friends, as he spends his day in a happy little bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines day, y'all. This chapter has nothing to do with it, but I hope your day with filled with love; self love, friend love, family love, all you deserve.
> 
> Have a wonderful night!
> 
> TW: past trauma/child abuse. smut.

Waking up Friday morning banged and bruised was worse than the hangover from earlier in the week. Eddie’s shoulder and arm were sore, likely from using them to pry a goddamn frying pan from his mother the night before. He groaned as he sat up, popping some more Tylenol with leftover room-temperature tea. Richie was still out cold beside him. Eddie leaned down to kiss him on the forehead and ended up smelling his hair. It was likely some cheap Ocean Breeze shampoo or some shit from the dollar store, but on Richie it was like heaven as Eddie sighed into it, a pleasure he had not allowed himself before.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered. Richie snorted; a super attractive sound. “I’m going to hop in the shower.” Richie made some sort of noise in response, unmoving. Eddie carefully removed the blanket, groaning again as he stood up, his head heavy and swollen. The house was silent; Eddie peered out Richie’s window to see Dr. Tozier’s car missing from the driveway. He wondered if his mom had come by, but he shoved that thought deep down somewhere into his subconscious and headed to the restroom.

Fuck, did the water feel good. He stood there letting the water beat down on him for about 3 minutes straight before he started thinking and functioning properly enough to clean himself. He stole Penny’s shampoo, because fuck it, he wanted to smell like vanilla, but opted for the simple bar soap that was likely Richie’s. There wasn’t a single bottle of face wash anywhere in the shower or restroom, and Eddie was admittedly pissed off Richie kept his face acne free and beautiful just by washing it with the same soap he probably used on his balls. He heard the door creaking before he heard Richie’s voice echoing against the tiled walls of the restroom.

“Need some company, handsome?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Eddie replied, but the shower curtain whipped open to a very naked Richie climbing into the shower. “Jesus, Richie – ”

“Eddie, our dicks have already gotten to know each other a bit,” Richie said, pulling Eddie into him. It was _very_ different being touched while being exposed and open in daylight like this, not in the cozy comfort of the bed at night, and Eddie still was resisting the urge to curl into himself with embarrassment to hide under the florescent lighting he was sure was highlighting some unattractive features.

“Just don’t, like, stare at anything on my body.”

“Why not?” Richie asked, mouthing at Eddie’s neck, careful to stay to the right side of his face. His hands slid up Eddie’s chest through the beads of water; Eddie let out a quivering sigh in response to the touch, feeling heat from places the steam couldn’t reach. “Is this OK?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie managed. He knew Richie was trying to keep his mind off of the fucked up night he had, and it was working. He twisted himself around to properly kiss Richie press him up against the wall under the showerhead, the water still beating down on Eddie’s back as he pressed his wet chest into Richie’s with a light smack. It was a little stupid kissing like this, because his face hurt like fucking hell and it wasn’t helping that Richie was _nippy._

“Is this – OK – or is it – too rough?” He asked Eddie between nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Beep, beep,” Eddie said before he could help himself, grabbing Richie’s face to hold him still and kiss him more deeply. His body kept surprising him, pushing back harder as he felt the rough pads of Richie’s finger tips trail around his skin to squeeze his waist and ass cheeks, pressing his erection against Eddie’s thigh.

“You want me to do something about that?” Eddie murmured in Richie’s ear before sinking his teeth into the earlobe.

“ _Please,”_ Richie moaned, tilting his head back to give Eddie’s mouth access to his neck… then down to his chest… down to his abdomen… until – “ _Fuck, Eds.”_

Eddie gagged slightly when Richie gave a thrust forward, clearly not expecting Eddie to just go for it and take it in one go, but Eddie was not in the mood to be patient. He put a palm against Richie’s thigh, gripping around the hip bone to keep him still and used the other to pump the rest of Richie’s shaft where his mouth couldn’t reach. It wasn’t what he was expecting; it tasted pretty much like nothing but the water and now saliva is was coated in, with the occasional bead of saltiness that dripped down his throat, which Eddie assumed was precum and really wasn’t bad. He figured he could probably do just about anything he wanted and Richie would go crazy over it, listening to Richie pant above him while he swirled his tongue around, despite having no clue what the fuck he was really supposed to do. He pulled off and looked up at Richie, who was staring down at him with one of those dazed-horny looks he had only seen in his wildest dreams, cock still in Eddie’s hand. “Grab the soap.”

Richie blinked a few times. “Eddie, I can’t comprehend what you’re saying with those big brown eyes staring at me with my dick near your face.”

“Soap. My spit isn’t going to work in the shower.” Richie reached up behind him and handed Eddie the bar, watching him lather up a couple of his fingers. Eddie tapped his thigh with the back of his hand. “Spread ‘em.” And he did, widening enough to keep himself steady and allow Eddie access into the rear while still blowing him. On another day, Eddie might’ve wanted to try teasing him a bit, but his face and jaw were already sore and a defiant part of him wanted to make his boyfriend come fast and hard as a big “fuck you” to Sonia, even if it was all a battle in his mind. He heard Richie gasp above him when he started fingering him without any hesitation, trying to emulate what Richie was doing to him last night, squeezing his balls a little while they rested in his palm, hollowing his cheeks to suck in as much as he could, and one of Richie’s hands gripped into Eddie’s hair tight. In his craze, Richie had started fucking Eddie’s mouth, so he held himself still and sucked the cock thrusting into his throat, trying to concentrate on what his fingers were doing. Richie was relaxed around them, but felt him tighten once Eddie found that little nodule he was looking for and Richie began muttering a string of expletives; the orgasm seemed to come as a surprise to him, because he threw his head back, harshly banging it against the wall and Eddie held his head still while Richie shook and pumped into his throat to finish off.

That taste wasn’t so bad, either, Eddie thought, finally pulling off, grateful for the built up tolerance of his gag reflex as a string of spit and cum dripped out of his mouth. Richie watched him lap it back up into his mouth with his tongue. “Fuck; that is hot.”

“Is it?” Eddie chuckled, wiping his chin, steadily getting himself back up. “You wanna return the favor?”

He was a little surprised that Richie didn’t need a minute to gather himself, still struck with the cum-dumb look on his face before grabbing hold of Eddie around the waist and pressing him against the side wall, feeling Richie’s hand around his hard cock now.

“Uh uh,” Eddie said, shaking his head.

“What?”

“I said _return the favor._ Put that Trashmouth to work,” Eddie said, smirking, pushing Richie down. Richie grinned back up at him.

“Is it weird that I like it when you’re mean?”

“Shut up and suck my dick, Rich.”

Eddie was already close to coming just from having Richie in his mouth before; it didn’t take long for Richie to take him all the way, and he was silently thanking Richie for watching whatever porn he was into; Richie’s hands gripped him _tight_ on his hip bones, taking care of all the work and it was all but about a minute before Eddie was arching his back, feeling that brief moment of mind numbing pleasure that made you forget what fucking planet you were on, all in the warm, wet mouth around him. He looked down, eager to get that final glimpse of Richie swallowing it all down, but was taken aback by Richie pulling away with a look of disgust.

“What – is something wrong?” he gasped.

“No, no, sorry,” Richie said, wiping his mouth. He spit at the shower drain. Eddie couldn’t help but be a little offended.

“Um…?”

“It just… it didn’t taste the greatest,” he said apologetically.

“You didn’t exactly taste like strawberries and cream, Richie.” Eddie wondered if he could possibly get a _de_ rection from embarrassment right now.

“Eddie, it’s OK,” Richie said, kissing his way back Eddie’s chest to stand. “Please don’t be upset.” He took Eddie’s face in his hands, being gentle around the bruises, and leaned in for a kiss. Eddie was set to keep arguing before Richie opened his mouth against his.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie pulled back.

“Yeah.”

“That’s… oh god.” Well, now he just felt _bad_ for Richie.

“Maybe we can add more fruit to your diet?” Richie chuckled, kissing Eddie on the nose.

“That’s really embarrassing,” Eddie muttered, looking down at his dick with severe judgment, as though it did it on purpose, very interested in getting out of the shower suddenly and avoiding Richie’s eyes.

“Eddiiiiiiiiie,” Richie sung, wrapping around Eddie’s waist. “It’s _fiiiiine._ Stop pouting. I love you, bad tasting jizz and all.”

“Oh my god, I need to get out of this shower.”

Richie eventually let Eddie wiggle out of his grip, set on finally cleaning himself.

“What are we doing today anyway?” Eddie called as he dried off, wiping some condensation off the mirror to look at his wounds, some of the bruises developing a sickly yellow around the edges.

“Bar Harbor,” Richie said.

“What’s in Bar Harbor?”

“Ice cream,” Richie replied matter-of-factly.

Eddie stared incredulously at the shower curtain Richie stood behind. “It’s freezing outside.”

“Nope. Cracked the window open; it’s all springy and warm and shit. Late March is such a gamble.”

Eddie perked up at the idea of spending time outside and feeling the sun on his skin. “I still don’t see how that warrants an hour long drive for ice cream.”

“Don’t forget the hour back. I’ll let you drive.”

“I don’t want to be seen driving a _Daewoo_.”

“Hey! Be kind to Darla, she’s sensitive! I don’t want her hearing you say that shit about her.”

Eddie had no idea how Richie figured out which of clothes were clean. All of them were in a large pile in his closet or stuffed to the brim of his laundry hamper or shoved under his bed.

“What do I wear?” Eddie asked when Richie came in, having put his pajamas back on and was drying his hair off with the towel.

“Uh, put the pjs back on. If it’s on the floor, it’s dirty.”

Eddie groaned. “Seriously? Richie, everything is on the floor.”

Richie shrugged. “Mom’s been away.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him. “You don’t do your own laundry? What the fuck do you do around the house, Richie?”

“She’s a _homemaker._ She makes the home. I work for a living.”

“You got fired from the video store a month ago for telling a customer to lick your balls because he said he didn’t like John Carpenter.”

Richie groaned, tossing Eddie back the pants he wore last night. “I still get the groceries and fix shit around the house. Mow the lawn, dishes and shit.”

“OK, well I’m not dating a grown-ass man that can’t figure out how to pour laundry detergent. We’re working on this shit later,” he said, gesturing to the pile accumulating in Richie’s closet.

All of Richie’s clothes were huge on Eddie, and Richie kept laughing at Eddie tucking in the pants into his socks so they wouldn’t tangle under his feet or the gas pedal.

“Fuck off,” Eddie said, starting Richie’s car. “It’s not my fault you’re a goddamn Sasquatch.” He had a driver’s license, thank god, even if his mother refused to let him get a car.

“Sorry,” Richie snickered. “You’re just too goddamn cute. Now c’mon, let’s peel out before your mother drive-by shoots us.”

He was joking, but Eddie couldn’t help but feel nervous not knowing what his mother was doing right now. Richie flipped off the ‘Leaving Derry’ sign as they pulled toward the 1A. Eddie wasn’t confident about a lot of things, but he was a damn good driver. Richie thought so too, trusting Eddie enough with his car to kick his car seat back and pull his boots off, just listening to Eddie talk. He listened to Eddie vent the whole drive, managing to be completely silent as Eddie went on and on about shit his mother had done over the years, things he mostly kept quiet to avoid the worry and conversation. After a while, Eddie looked over at Richie, who looked unsettled.

“I didn’t realize she had been this bad,” he finally said quietly. “I can’t believe she tried to get you circumcised when you were _six._ ”

Eddie felt his cheeks blush. “Yeah, well, sorry you had to be face-first into my mangled dick without warning.”

“Wait, the doctors went _through_ with it?”

“Well, yeah… I mean, can’t you tell?”

“No,” Richie said, but he seemed to be thinking about it. “You really can’t, honestly. Maybe yours is just naturally shorter and they lied about going through with it?”

“Tell that to my dick, it took like a month to heal.”

“Fuck, Eddie, if any of us knew it was that bad…”

“What good would it have done to say anything?” Eddie said defensively.

“Well, your dick surgery for one. Maybe last night wouldn’t have happened? Maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hit in the face with a rolling pin? Maybe we could have snuck you proper meals through your window so you could have eaten well? Put a stop to those ridiculous fucking placebos?”

“I did stop taking them,” Eddie admitted. “I cheeked them.”

“How do you know she wasn’t putting them in your food?”

That was a fair point, Eddie thought. It stirred something else in his brain.

“Richie,” he said slowly. “I’ve been thinking… I think my mom might have been lying about my dad having cancer.”

A beat passed before Richie responded. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just, like, this feeling I have.”

“What, like you mean she _killed_ him?”

“Maybe.”

It was quiet again in the car for a minute, both of them contemplating. Then Richie said, “What was it like… when he was dying? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said truthfully. “I was so little, I don’t really remember. I kind of remember the hospitals. I feel like it all happened sort of fast.”

“Have you ever seen any paperwork from the hospitals? Like, doctors bills or lab work or anything like that?”

“No,” Eddie said, feeling nervous. “The only person who I’ve ever heard talk about it was my mom. Christ, Richie. I don’t know what this means.”

“Mike told me something once… about stuff he had researched about It – you know, Pennywise.” Of course, because everything seemed to come down to fucking clown. “He said that It’s presence, even when dormant, made Derry more horrible than other places, like it just brought out the worst in people; especially adults.”

“So, what are you saying?”

Richie took a deep breath. “Maybe if we didn’t kill that clown when we did… maybe you would’ve ended up like your dad a while ago.”

It was certainly thought-provoking and Eddie couldn’t help but think Richie was right, bringing a chill down his spine. His mother grew worse over the years, and this past week had been a fucking hellhole, but the worsening of her behavior had taken a deep decline since they snuffed out the deadlights in the sewers. But, deep to her core, she still seemed to be a terrible person; no Ritual or massive supernatural event was going to change that, it seemed. He remained silent while pulling into a parking spot, looking up at Richie, who was shaking his head in bewilderment.

“What?” asked Eddie, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I still don’t know how you do that.”

“Do what?”

Richie gestured to the ice cream parlor in front of them. “We’ve never been here before. I didn’t even get a chance to look for it on a map. But you just fucking got here, no problem. You’re like a goddamn compass.”

Eddie shrugged, getting out of the car. “I have a good sense of direction.”

“No,” Richie argued, following Eddie outside. “This is witchcraft or some shit. You don’t just find some place you’ve never been before. We never seem to get lost when you’re around.” He tapped Eddie’s forehead, like he was trying to jar something lose in Eddie’s brain. “Are you a wizard?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Eddie said, brushing Richie off.

The place Richie had picked was not your every day, plain-Jane ice cream place. Eddie was ready to order something simple, like chocolate or vanilla; maybe go a little crazy and get sprinkles. But they stood staring at weird shit like spicy chocolate chili until Eddie decided he was going to get boiled coffee, whatever the fuck that meant. To Richie’s credit, the second Eddie got his first lick in, it was clear that the drive was worth it.

“I think my mouth just came,” Richie said loud enough for the cashier to hear, shoveling spoonfuls of white chocolate bergamot into his face. “Let me lick your cone.”

“Hell no, you have your own.”

“C’mon, Eddie, let’s lick each other’s like we did this morning – ”

“ _Rich,_ ” Eddie hissed, reddening in the face, avoiding the cashier’s eye and clapping a hand over Richie’s mouth. “Beep fucking beep!”

Eddie apologized profusely while pulling Richie out, already embarrassed by the looks he was surely getting by how his face looked and how he looked like a homeless infant in grown up clothes wearing Richie’s pajamas. He made the executive decision to take their ice cream down to the town pier. There weren’t too many people out, as it was understandably a weekday and they were probably the only two idiots eating ice cream outside, so Eddie let himself intertwine his hand into Richie’s while they sat on the dock, looking out over to Bar Island. He even rested his head on Richie’s shoulder, and felt Richie sigh contentedly.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Eddie said, pressing himself tightly into Richie’s side. Even the breeze was warm on his face. “This was nice; simple. I needed this.”

“Wish it could stay like this,” Richie said.

“Why can’t it?”

“Cause Godzilla is still stomping around Derry, hell-bent on ruining your life. There’s a lot of shit to deal with when we get back.”

“I know that. Just… not today. Just let today be good.”

He felt Richie kiss his forehead and nuzzle his face into Eddie’s hair. “I promise: good things only.” Richie checked his watch. “We should probably get going.”

“Already?” Eddie asked, lifting his head as Richie got up.

“We’re going to have company in less than two hours,” Richie said, reaching down to pull Eddie up and embrace him. “As much as I would love to have you to myself, I think our friends really need to see you.”

Eddie convinced Richie that they needed to eat some real food before heading out, splitting a lobster roll from a café near the ice cream shop before Eddie helped navigate Richie back out of Bar Harbor to go home. They agreed it would be safest for Richie to drive back, in case Sonia was lurking around. Eddie pushed his seat flat and to stay out of sight while Richie got them to the house. Belly full of shellfish and dairy, body still aching, Eddie drifted off to an Eels song about 10 minutes in after making sure Richie knew where he was going, waking up to someone tapping his face.

Eddie shoved them off, yawning and wiping a little drool off his chin before opening his eyes to see a pair of green ones staring right back at him through Richie’s car window.

“BEV!”

“Hey, Eds!” she squealed as Eddie sat up to shove his torso out the window and squeeze her into a tight hug.

He pulled back, settling back into the car seat, taking Bev’s face in his hands for some assurance that she was really there. “What are you doing back in Derry? Oh,” he said softly as her face fell, catching her eyes moving his face.

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” she said sadly. But she smiled, taking Eddie’s hand from her face to kiss the soft flesh on the back. “Also, thanks for the twenty bucks, lovebirds.”

“Can’t you just be happy we’re in love, Marsh?” Richie asked, and Eddie realized he had already gotten out of the car, leaning back against the hood.

“Nah, I need money for some smokes,” Beverly said, winking.

Eddie stumbled out of the car and gave Beverly a proper hug, squeezing her tightly has he lifted her up; she was the only damn person he knew smaller than himself. Over her shoulder he saw Mike and Bill’s cars parked down the street, keeping an inconspicuous distance from Richie’s house. “Is everyone here?”

“Yeah,” said Bev, pulling back and walking by Eddie’s side up to the front door, their arms wrapped around each other. “We broke in and made ourselves at home. Hope you don’t mind, Richie?”

“Never do.”

Richie threw the door open, gesturing for Eddie and Bev to lead the way in. Eddie looked into the den and sure enough the other four Losers were gathered in there, all looking a bit exhausted. Stan was resting on the couch, curly hair windswept, with Ben leaning over him to nurse his ankle with ice. Mike and Bill stood around a large pile of garbage bags, trying to organize the things inside of them, which appeared to be all of Eddie’s clothes, hygiene products, and some stuff from school.

“How?” Eddie asked, dropping his arm from Beverly’s waist and staring at his stuff incredulously.

“Operation Get Eddie the Hell Outta There,” said Stan. “Or ‘Operation ‘Get Hot,’ if you will.”

“What the hell did you guys do?” Eddie couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration towards his friends as his eyes scanned his belongings.

“Bill’s idea,” Richie said, shoving Stan’s good leg out of the way to plop himself on the other end of the sofa. “They planned it all last night after I called. Needed to make sure you were out of Derry when they did it so you’d be out of the line of fire in case things went south.”

“So, w-we waited for Beverly to get here on the b-bus,” Bill started, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “St-Stan, Ben and I all waited around your house with w-walkie-t-t-talkie’s. Bev and Mike called your m-mom from my house – ”

“We figured she wouldn’t recognize my voice as well,” Mike said. “She hasn’t really spoken to me much. So anyway, I call and say I’m from the police department, right? Saying we found her son, she needs to come down right away, blah blah blah.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replied, already seeing the problem.

“But we didn’t know you guys got the caller ID,” Beverly continued. “She fucking went off, and threatened to send the real police at us.”

“It kind of worked, anyway,” Stan said. “She left the house. It didn’t give us nearly as much time as we wanted, and Mike and Beverly had to bolt cause Sonia was driving out to Bill’s house and it wasn’t far.”

“We had to lead her on a little car chase,” Mike said, shaking his head. “We stayed in the car long enough for her to see us peel out the driveway, and see that it wasn’t actually Bill, so she wouldn’t go home right away or get Bill in trouble – which didn’t end up mattering anyway, because he got caught.”

“They must’ve lost her,” said Ben. “Cause while we were still loading shit up in the car, she comes drifting around the corner.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groaned, imagining the look on his mother’s face behind the wheel when she saw his friends stealing his shit from her house.

“Of course the car is far out from the house so no one could get suspicious of it there,” Stan went on. “So we’re hightailing it the fuck out of there – I fucking trip and bust my ankle – Ben loses his shit, scoops me up and fireman carries me to the car while Bill’s tossing the last bag into his car, Ben throws us both in and we drive off screaming, Ben’s legs still hanging out the window.”

“It was a m-m-mess,” Bill said, his face reflecting in terror. “I d-don’t know if she’ll ac-actually call the c-cops or not.”

“Breaking and entering,” said Ben. “She damn well might.”

“If it comes to that, we’ll just say it was Eddie,” Richie said. “You can’t get arrested for taking your own shit.”

“I can’t believe you guys did this,” Eddie said softly. “You really, really didn’t have to go through all this.”

“Yes we did,” Bill said sharply. “Eddie, l-look at your fucking face.”

“Yeah, she really fucking did a number on you,” Ben said sadly, and Eddie could feel all their eyes on him.

“Press charges,” Beverly said to him suddenly. “You’re an adult, so you can sue her. Even if you can’t get it to go far, maybe you can use it to get her to back the fuck off.”

“Or get a re-restraining order,” Bill offered.

“Maybe we should just take her to the sewers and kill her,” Richie said unabashedly. It was obvious to Eddie he was still fuming over the information Eddie shared with him in the car, and he didn’t blame him for being a little hostile

“OK, I’m going to draw a line in the fucking sand here and cross murder off of my to-do list,” Stan said, shoving his foot in Richie’s side. “I added enough criminal activity to my resume today.”

“Guys, I don’t…” Eddie started, feeling those goddamn tears again. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re not going b-back to that fucking house again,” Bill said earnestly. “Puh-please, Eddie. I-it’s my fault anyway – ”

“She found out before he said anything,” interrupted Richie. “There wasn’t any possible way for this to go well while he lived there. Besides, there’s no way Eddie is going back.”

They all watched him carefully as he gingerly looked through his belongings on the floor, silently letting himself cry again while Beverly rubbed his back. None of them knew what to say for a moment, patiently waiting for Eddie to take it all in, and he pulled out a wrinkled shirt and sniffed it.

“Did you guys sort the dirty clothes from the clean ones?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” groaned Ben, smacking his forehead.

“Yes, Eddie,” Stan said monotonously. “We meticulously folded all your clean clothes and laundered your soiled undergarments. We even sorted your socks, see?” He added, leaning down to chuck some bunched up, dirty ones at Eddie’s face.

“Eds,” Bill chuckled. “W-we literally threw a b-bunch of shit into garbage bags and t-took off.”

“At least you’re all acting normal,” Beverly said fondly, wiping a tear off Eddie’s cheek before placing a kiss there.

“Well, it looks like Eddie and I have a hot date with the laundry room,” Richie sighed. “A little candlelight, detergent, lube – ”

“Whelp,” said Stan, getting up a little unsteadily on his bust ankle. “That’s my cue to leave.”

“Don’t be jealous, Stanley.”

“You guys need any help?” Mike asked Eddie.

“No,” Eddie said, sniffling, but eyes drying. “We’ll just bring it all up to Richie’s room and sort it there. I don’t want his mom coming home from New Hampshire tonight with a small party of teenagers in her house. One shock is enough for the weekend.”

“Fair enough,” said Ben, clapping Eddie on the back. “Please call any of us if you need anything, Eddie. You, too, Richie; you don’t need to do everything by yourself. Bev is going to be here all weekend, maybe we can all do something if you can.”

“That sounds great.” Eddie smiled up at him and hugged his friends one by one before Richie escorted them out. Beverly hung back for a moment and gave Eddie one last, big hug. Besides Richie, Eddie loved Beverly’s hugs the most; it was like she radiated the sun from her heart and Eddie could feel the warmth spread through him at her touch.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, too Bevvie,” he smiled at her. “Thank you guys; for everything.”

Eddie watched them head out to their cars and, despite everything, he was very grateful for his small place in the universe, not wanting to be anywhere else or know any other people outside of the bubble he made for himself here in Derry. Richie guided him back inside, and Eddie turned to him to see a teasing smile on his face.

“What?”

Richie leaned down to press into him, kissing Eddie deeply with a hand cupping his cheek. He pulled away, tilting Eddie’s chin up with it and his smile widened. “Why don’t we see how wild that dryer vibrates with some weight on it?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's still struggling with some internal conflicting emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is a bit shorter than previous ones, but I wanted this stuff separate from what comes next.  
> Thank again for the love, y'all!
> 
> TW: Besides some smut, I don't think anything too explicit.

“Hey, Richie, can you throw my sheets in the wash?”

“Can you fuck off and do your own laundry later? Eddie’s got a shit ton of stuff from his house, OK? Make yourself useful and make dinner.”

Penelope groaned and banged on the door once, but they heard her scamper off. It would have been a completely normal brother and sibling interaction, had Richie not been leaning over a completely naked Eddie who was bent over Riche’s dryer, standing on his tiptoes so his dick was pressed on the edge of it.

“I was so close,” Eddie muttered quietly, gripping the sides of the dryer tightly as it vibrated pleasantly against his erection. “Maybe – ah!” he yelped as Richie shoved his fingers in deeper before clamping his other hand over Eddie’s mouth.

Richie leaned in, pulling Eddie’s back into his chest tightly. “I’m not done with you yet. Just try to be quiet.”

Eddie’s voice was muffled against Richie’s hand, and they both realized being quiet wasn’t going to happen. Richie kept his hand around Eddie’s mouth as he moaned into the palm while Richie’s other hand worked into him. Eddie thought he was going to fucking lose it when Richie started biting his ear, his hot breath sending more shivers into Eddie’s body. Every few moments came with a flutter in his chest when he was reminded this was fucking _Richie_ panting into his ear, like he had only imagined and never thought would be reality all these years. “Touch yourself,” Richie demanded, and Eddie didn’t hesitate to do so, reaching down to pump to the rhythm of Richie’s hand. He was practically humping the dryer when he got a sudden sense of urgency and peeled Richie’s hand off of his mouth.

“Rich,” he panted. “I want you to fuck me.”

Richie stopped, an incredibly frustrating and sudden stop, pulling himself out and twisting Eddie around the face him. It kind of wasn’t fair that he wasn’t naked, too. “You can’t be serious? You want the first time in the laundry room?”

“Have we really ever been conventional?” Eddie offered.

Richie breathed in shakily. “You have no idea how tempting that is with how fucking beautiful you look right now.” Eddie knew he was sweaty, ruddy-faced, bruised up, and tousle haired, but if this was what Richie found beautiful, who was Eddie to judge? “But your face is still fucked up and we don’t have any condoms.”

“What, are you worried I’m ovulating?” Eddie said dryly. “We don’t need a condom.”

“Trust _me_ , the one who actually watches gay porn – we _need_ a condom… and lube. You’ll thank me later. There’s no rush.” Eddie huffed, even though he was probably sure he was rushing things out of desperation from the trauma he just had. He let it go. He felt Richie reach down to his ass with both hands and yelped again as Richie lifted him up and plopped him on the dryer with a _clank_ , the metal cold against his sweaty cheeks. Eddie went to reach for his dick again, but Richie slapped it away, pressing against Eddie’s chest and forcing him to lean back. “Just relax,” he cooed. “I got you.”

And Eddie did try to relax, but he sat up again, wanting badly to kiss Richie this time as he came. It made the angle a little awkward, one of Richie’s arms between his legs reaching down to continue working his fingers into him, and the other working on Eddie’s cock but Eddie propped himself up with an arm on the shaking machine beneath him and clung onto Richie’s neck with the other like a lifeline and shoved his tongue in his mouth. His face was aching and Richie’s tongue was a little clumsy, but he was doing such a goddamn good job everywhere else (thank _god_ Richie had practiced this on himself countless times before), Eddie could barely concentrate on that. He couldn’t tell if Richie was moaning from his own erection that he was thrusting into the dryer under them or because Eddie was practically yanking the hair out of the back of his scalp, but the sounds stirred that primal part of Eddie’s brain and he felt himself make a strangled noise into Richie’s mouth, squeezing his thighs tightly around Richie’s hips while he came.

Richie pulled back, his lip bleeding a little from Eddie biting it in orgasm, glasses askew. Every single one of his freckles was fucking precious.

“God, I fucking love you,” Eddie panted. “Do you… want me to…?”

“Nah,” said Richie, gesturing to a wet stain in his boxers. “I just impregnated the dryer.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said, but couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Am I that sexy that you come just from touching me?”

“And those noises you make, Jesus.”

Eddie wiped the blood off Richie’s lip and kissed him again, a bit gentler. Most of his cum ended up on Richie’s shirt, which he just tossed into the next load of laundry with the rest of their clothes, pulling some clean ones out for himself.

“Here,” Richie said, handing him a robe from the dryer. “This is all clean. Just wear it while your clothes are washing up.”

He watched Eddie pull the robe on, a sly smirk on his face.

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Looking hot, Hugh Hefner.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie chuckled tightening the string around his middle to feel extra cozy, but they both jumped at the sound of a loud bang from outside, followed by indistinguishable shouting. “Rich?”

“Hold on.” Richie pushed Eddie behind him protectively and opened the door a crack to better hear who was in the house.

“WHERE IS HE? WENTWORTH, I NEED TO SEE HIM.”

Richie sighed in relief and opened the door wider so Eddie could jump out into sight.

“I’m here, Mrs. Tozier!”

Maggie was small compared to the rest of the family, who all stood tall and lanky. She was blonde, a little stout, with Richie’s warm brown eyes. Eddie hadn’t seen her so frenzied and hysterical before, and it was a little unnerving as she barreled towards him, squeezing him into a bone-crushing hug, making Eddie feel extremely weird about having just jizzed all over her pristine laundry room and wearing her husband’s robe.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” she wailed, pulling back to look at his face properly. “Are you OK? Is anything broken?”

“Maggie, I already checked him,” Wentworth said patiently behind her.

Maggie looked back at him directly. “Shouldn’t we have a regular doctor check?”

“Harsh, Mags.”

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Yeah, mom!” Richie whooped. Eddie felt a little nauseated.

“Mags, honey… maybe we can calm down a little bit, he’s had a long couple of days.”

Maggie took a deep breath. “Wentworth, where’s the shotgun?”

“What?!” Eddie squeaked.

“Maggie…”

“I’m not going to shoot her,” Maggie huffed, throwing her arm out in gesture as though that had been quite obvious. “It’s just in case she shows her stupid face on our property. She needs to know what will happen if she steps a _toe_ past that threshold into my goddamn house.”

Eddie looked back desperately at Richie, but he served no calming ease to Eddie’s nerves as he stood there leaning his head against the wall smiling fondly at his mother. The apple did not fall far from the tree.

“Miss – Mrs. Tozier… please, I don’t want anyone to be fighting.”

“Of course not, dear,” she cooed, face dropping dramatically to that of a soothing parent as she patted his bruised face. It was a little scary how quickly she could turn it on and off like that. “We just want to make sure you’re safe, that’s all.” She turned back to her husband. “Is he going to press charges?” Wentworth shrugged. Maggie looked back to Eddie.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to get her in trouble. She’s still my mom.”

The mood in the room shifted immediately, becoming extremely uncomfortable. Maggie opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally speaking. “Why don’t we just focus on dinner, yeah?” She offered him a kind smile, but Eddie could see her eyes shining distinctively with tears she was holding back.

“I made spaghetti,” Penelope’s small voice came from next to Wentworth in the kitchen doorway.

“Spaghetti for the spaghetti man!” Richie roared behind him, offering some levity to the room.

“You want to bring your bags up, Mags?” Wentworth asked.

“Yeah, mom, where’s all your shit?”

“Ugh, outside,” Maggie sighed. “I just kind of dropped it and ran in.”

“I’ll get your stuff, mom. Eddie Spaghetti, go eat.” Richie clapped him on the back before following his dad out, Maggie gently guiding Eddie into the kitchen.

“Should I change?” he asked awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie said. “Your stuff is in the wash, yeah?”

“It sure is taking a long time for how long you guys were in there,” Penny said, smirking. Eddie looked at her pointedly, wanting to throttle her. But Maggie started putting plates out, still a little flustered from her sudden arrival home and outburst.

“Can I use your phone?” Eddie asked. “To call my doctor,” he explained when Maggie gave him a concerned look. “I’m actually going to see him; I just need to change my appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh, sure, honey, go right ahead,” she said, continuing to set up the table.

Eddie dialed his doctor’s number and drummed his fingers on the counter until the secretary picked up.

“Dr. Davis’s office, Olivia speaking.”

Liv; Eddie liked Liv a lot. She was a pretty young girl in her early 20s, and had only come back home to help her mother take care of her sick brother. She was doing well in her premed program in Orono, and now she was stuck back in Derry answering phones for a real doctor and spending her free time with her brother in his chemotherapy sessions.

“Hi. This is Edward Kaspbrak. I’m calling about a 9 o’clock appointment I have.”

“Oh, hi Eddie! Do you need to reschedule?”

“Yeah, uh… I was wondering if I could be seen earlier.”

“Hmm. Let me see…” Eddie waited patiently as she looked at their calendar. “Looks like our 8:15 cancelled, if that’s OK?”

“That’s perfect. I’ll come in then. Also, uh… is it possible for me to change my contact information? And my emergency contact?”

Eddie felt the simultaneous awkwardness from the phone and Maggie watching him carefully.

“Y-yeah, sure… is everything OK?”

He really didn’t want to go over this on the phone, but he tried to keep it light. “Well, not really, but I’m OK right now. I’m living at the Tozier residence. I’ll have, uh…” He looked over at Maggie, who pointed to Wentworth as he entered the room back with Richie. “Wentworth Tozier as my emergency contact.”

“Like, Dr. Tozier the dentist whose clinic is two doors down from us, Dr. Tozier?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure… I think I have all the information in the computer already for him from Richie’s file.”

“Great. Thanks, Liv. Also, can you do me one more favor?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Eddie took a deep breath. Time to man up. “Under no circumstances whatsoever is my mother allowed to have any of my medical information. I withdraw all consent for her to know any history or future information. Do you understand?”

He gave her a few seconds, obviously trying to process what he said, and perhaps looking at his records to confirm that, yes; he was 18 now and could legally tell his mom to fuck right off. But if he was still covered under her insurance…

“I don’t think that should be a problem, Eddie,” she finally replied, sending a wave of relief into Eddie. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks again, Liv. Have a good night.”

Dinner was a little tense, the entire table trying to avoid the topic of Eddie’s current and devastating situation, but when Richie started clearing plates, Maggie asked Wentworth if the school had any idea yet.

“I spoke to the principal and staff today,” he told the table. “Thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any issues, given that he’s a legal adult. But, Eddie, you’re going to have to tell them yourself on Monday; they won’t take my word about your personal information or our records.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Eddie mumbled. He got up to help Richie with the dishes, but Maggie shoved him back down.

“Do you want a ride to the doctor tomorrow Eddie? I can bring you down and then we can see about your tooth after.”

“That would be great, thanks.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Dr. T, can I see you in your office for a minute?”

Wentworth raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure. Penelope, help your brother clean up so your mother can settle in from her drive home.”

“Everything OK, Eds?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” he replied quickly. “Just… teeth questions about tomorrow.”

Richie squinted at him suspiciously, but dropped it. Eddie followed Wentworth into the hallway down to his office that was hidden behind their den. Eddie had no idea what dentists did besides what was done from beside a patients chair, but it was a cozy office and Eddie probably figured he just wanted to quiet space to do taxes or some other adult shit.

“So… teeth questions?”

“Small lie,” Eddie admitted. “I was actually wondering about something else; something that might seem a little out of the blue.”

“Go on…”

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, slightly nervous about the conversation he was bringing up.

“Did you ever meet my dad, when he was alive?”

Wentworth looked pensive for a moment, stroking his chin. “I did, actually; just the once. It wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

“What happened?” Eddie probed.

“Well… we got a call from the preschool to come in about Richie’s behavior. They said he was being quite a distraction to the other kids and he made another kid cry in school. So, Maggie and I show up and, of course, your mother is there, absolutely furious. It was something about him ruining one of your toys I think, something so small and ridiculous that she took way too seriously. She brought up that your dad was sick in the hospital, trying to make us feel guilty about causing you more distress.”

Eddie listened intently, an eerie feeling sinking in, as he remembered his dad telling him this story. But, it surely wasn’t actually his dad, right? It was just a dream invaded by a memory from too long ago to pull out consciously.

“Anyway, a few days later I get called in to the hospital for an emergency consult because some kid tripped and smashed face first during a track meet; had to get his jaw wired in the ER, his teeth all messed up. I was about to leave when I remembered what your mom said and I, uh… well, I went asking for which room he was in. I wanted to apologize, I felt terrible for him being sick and Richie making his son upset. But then I went in and he didn’t even seem upset about it at all. You were there,” Wentworth added, smiling as he recollected. “You were tucked into his side on the hospital bed, tiny little thing even for your age, asking him if he would get better before the annual car show in Bangor he had promised to take you to. He was super pleasant about the whole thing about the school. Apologized for your moms behavior, said she was just overly stressed. Then he got a visitor and I felt I was overstepping myself, so I left. That was it.”

“Who was the visitor?”

Wentworth shrugged. “I don’t remember his name.”

“It was a guy? What did he look like?”

“Yeah, ah… tall I think, blond, glasses. He was wearing a suit, could’ve been an attorney or insurance agent to make… you know, final arrangements. Never saw him before; never saw him again after.”

“Huh.” Eddie racked his brain; both his grandfathers passed before he was even born, his father was an only child, and his mother only had a sister… who was the friend that had come to visit him? Eddie surely didn’t get any inheritance for his 18th birthday; his mother never mentioned such a thing, either.

“I know it must be hard… wondering what it would be like right now if he were here,” Wentworth said carefully. “You could tell he loved you a lot. I know I probably don’t have a right to speak about it, but not a lot of things can make a man that sick smile that brightly, not the way he was looking at you.”

Eddie felt a pang of sadness mixed with a warm, loving feeling towards this man he barely got to know. He cleared his throat. “My mom… she said that the cancer had metastasized so much they couldn’t tell where it started by the time they found it.”

Wentworth furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about his condition. Even if I was working, if he wasn’t my patient it would be highly illegal for me to look into his file.”

He surveyed Eddie for a minute, and Eddie felt a little uneasy under his gaze. “I, uh – It’s fine. I get it.”

“Well, look Eddie – ”

Wentworth was cut off by the doorbell. Eddie whipped his head toward the sound, feeling all of his insides constrict. “Oh…”

The door burst open, Eddie having a miniature heart attack before he realized it was Richie, who had ran back into the office at full speed.

“Dad, Sonia is here.”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to move, completely frozen. He started to sweat, his breathing becoming ragged. That instinct to reach for an inhaler came back, even though he kept telling himself, _It’s not asthma Eds, it’s a panic attack!_ Wentworth stood up smoothly, making his way out.

“Richie, stay here.”

Richie nodded fervently, watching his dad walk out into the den, closing the door behind him. Richie ducked down to Eddie’s level, taking his face in his hands and forcing him to look at him.

“Rich –”

“Eddie, just look at me. My parents have got this, OK? It’s going to be fine.”

Eddie tried shaking his head against Richie’s hands, feeling the sudden urge to run out. “Richie, I need to see her.”

“Nononono, absolutely not.”

“Richie…”

“Eds, look at me,” Richie said earnestly. “If she lays a finger on you again I’ll lose my shit and kill her, do you understand?”

“Can I – Can I just listen? Hear what she’s saying? Please?”

“No.”

A flash of white-hot anger came over Eddie, and he scowled, attempting to push Richie of off him and out of the way, but he was as planted as a tree.

“Richie, _move!_ ”

Richie gripped Eddie’s arms tightly. “No, Eds.”

Eddie kept struggling against Richie’s weight; since when did he get this fucking strong? There was no logical reason whatsoever for Eddie to run out there. That confidence he had when he stormed out of her house just the night before had dissipated and was replaced by the sick, nauseating guilt he had grown accustomed to. Yes, she hurt him, but… shouldn’t he at least talk to her? She was understandably worried; she hadn’t seen him in a full day. He needed to let her know he was all right, that was all. Eddie was being a bad son by not talking to her. He had been too harsh the way he spoke about her. Richie wouldn’t understand that, not with parents like his, and this was now Eddie’s fault for telling Richie too much today.

Despite himself, he kept cursing at Richie as Richie just wrapped Eddie tighter in his grip while he failed to break free, his pleas slowly starting to turn into sobs into Richie’s chest until his knees started giving out. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he that much of a masochist that he was doomed to want to run back to her at a moment’s notice if she showed signs of need? He was sitting there being held by a boy that loved him so goddamn deeply and fully that he felt he couldn’t even deserve any of this.

Eventually, Eddie completely collapsed, but Richie caught him and eased them both down to the floor, shifting Eddie in his arms to basically cradle him. Eddie would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so goddamn pathetic.

“Hey,” he heard Richie’s voice, low and soothing above him. “You’re home now, OK? You deserve better, Eds, you know that. This is your home.”

Eddie sniffled, closing his eyes as Richie ran his fingers through his hair, soothingly rubbing his back with the other. “Richie, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” Richie said immediately. “I know someone spent about 18 years telling you otherwise, but there’s nothing wrong with you. I promise.”

They both jumped when the front door slammed and sat there quietly for a moment. Eddie lifted his head, the whole side of it pounding furiously, and wiped his face with the long sleeve of the bathrobe he was still wearing. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Cut that shit out,” Richie said seriously. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said again. “I’m such a fucking baby.”

“No, you’re just little and upset.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie said, smiling despite himself. He knew he had to get his shit together if tomorrow was going to happen. He also knew, in his own best interests, he wasn’t going to say anything to Richie until after. Richie would never let him go through with it. But if Eddie was ever going to get past this and move on, he needed to build his courage back up and get this done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie needs to start figuring things out; his mother, his fathers passing, and some weird shit he realizes kinda turns him on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend! I hope you all will enjoy! I'm hoping one after this won't be too long from now, as we have visitors staying with us right now, which either means I'll be too busy when I'm not at work, or shut in my room to avoid everyone while I watching Shameless and type. Honestly, could go either way.
> 
> TW: Past abuse, drug reliance (drug abuse in a minor), super sexual content

It was after 3 in the morning, the rest of the time on the digital clock obstructed by a cup on Richie’s desk. Eddie sighed and carefully removed Richie’s arm from around his waist, sliding out of the bed discretely. He hadn’t slept a wink, and eventually Richie passed out trying to stay up with Eddie while he distracted himself with laundry, now lying in folded piles around the room and on Richie’s bed. Eddie maneuvered the sleeping Richie into a comfortable position without disturbing him and he was basically like a rock. Yet, despite how exhausted Eddie felt inside and out, he couldn’t bring himself to relax or shut his brain off, and now with Richie passed out he had nothing to dilute his ruminating thoughts.

“Richie, you’re being uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal,” Eddie had said to him a bit ago, still folding up his jeans.

Richie had shrugged. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s not a shocker. But you still usually speak even without thinking.”

Richie pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know what to say without making you upset, Eds, and I don’t want to add to your stress right now.”

Eddie threw his hands up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“One minute you’re calling your mom a cunt and talking shit, the next you want to run back home with her just because she shows up at the door,” Richie sputtered out in frustration. “I don’t want me and my family to do all this stuff just for you to get pissed off at me if I say the wrong thing about how you’re feeling at that particular moment and run back home, OK?”

Eddie stared, watching Richie’s tired face with a deep visceral embarrassment creeping through him.

“I don’t want you guys to have to do anything for me,” he breathed so quietly, he was surprised Richie heard him.

“I’m not trying to be a dick,” Richie said, half-apologetic, half-exhausted. “I’m just so sick of going through this, Eds. After all this now, I _can’t_ let it happen again.”

Eddie had just nodded and finished folding his pants, focusing solely on fighting a lump burning in his throat. He wondered if Richie was going to say more before Eddie heard the soft sounds of him snoring, and he looked up to see Richie had collapsed on top of his polo’s.

Eddie spent the next hour or so feeling like garbage, trying to curl himself up next to Richie and sleep it off. He knew Richie didn’t mean to make him feel worse so Eddie tried not to feel spiteful when Richie rolled over and wrapped his arm around him. By the time Eddie got down into the kitchen, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to put in any effort to make himself anything, feeling himself get upset by what Richie had said earlier. His eyes started burning again and he pounded his fist on the kitchen counter.

“Stop _crying,_ you fucking pussy,” Eddie muttered to himself.

“You should really give yourself a break, kid,” said a low voice behind him.

Eddie sighed, sauntering over to the table and taking a seat across from the man now sitting in the kitchen, folding his hands together in front of him.

“If you’re actually here and not just a figure of my imagination, you want to tell me whether or not you had any indication she would do something like this?”

He wanted to be angry at his dad, but there was something about those big doe-eyes that stirred something passive in him. Jesus, was this what it was like talking to Eddie? No wonder people kept babying him.

“I knew she was intolerable, but this…” Frank shook his head, his expression fraught. “I would’ve fought tooth and nail before I passed had I known.”

“We never talk about that,” Eddie said, thinking back to all the dreams he thought he had of his father. “You only ever talk about me and how I’m doing.”

“I’m uninteresting,” his dad said, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’ve got a life ahead of you that I’d be missing otherwise.”

“You always show up here,” Eddie pointed out.

“Sometimes I’d visit you at Bill’s or Stan’s,” Frank said, and Eddie recalled talking to his father in his ‘dreams’ then. “It’s been a while since you were at anyone’s for a sleepover. I just could never bring myself to go back to your mother’s house. Besides, she’d likely sent you to a mental hospital if she caught you talking to yourself.”

“How _do_ you talk to me?”

Frank shrugged. “I know as much as you do, kid. I always thought you had a lot of imaginary friends when you were small. But then, when your grandma died, you would tell us she’d talk to you all the time. You’d run into the room crying, saying grandma wouldn’t leave you alone. It stopped after your mom and I got the house.”

“Where do you go when you’re not here?”

Frank remained silent, and Eddie felt a sudden sense of indecency, because those weren’t questions you were supposed to ask. It wasn’t an answer he was supposed to know, and maybe it was better not to. Eddie tapped the surface of the table rhythmically. “How long were you sick?”

“Define sick,” Frank said, an exhausted expression on his face. “According to your mother, I always seemed to have something wrong with me. And then…” he trailed off, eyes narrowing.

“Then what?”

“It’s… hard… to remember exactly what happened. But I got to a point where my boss told me I had to go to the hospital to find out what was wrong or they’d fire me for good. I missed too many days. You were just starting kindergarten. And then…”

“And then you were gone,” Eddie finished. “You died before my birthday. And then I got pneumonia; mom said it was from playing in the basement and I spent Halloween in the hospital, and mom never let me think I wasn’t sick again.”

“You got pneumonia just like that? After I passed away?”

“Didn’t even make it to the memorial,” Eddie said quietly. “She wouldn’t do a funeral. She had you cremated. She didn’t want strangers showing up to the funeral home, so she did it at home while I was alone in the hospital bed; supposedly.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Eddie leaned back in his chair, frowning. “Well, I wasn’t there. I can’t say for sure if or when the memorial happened. Who would’ve gone?”

Frank let out a sad chuckle. “Not many people, honestly. I was a bit of a shut in. My parents were dead by then and your mother made sure my relationships with my friends became strained over the years.”

“Where do you think the cancer started?” Eddie asked cautiously. His father frowned.

“Cancer?”

Eddie felt his stomach drop. “That’s what she said you had; cancer.”

Frank’s frown deepened, his eyes looking down at the table for a moment. “Well, I guess if they did an autopsy… I couldn’t remember if they even told me what was wrong before it got so bad.”

“You weren’t on chemo?”

“No.”

Eddie’s heart started racing, a cold chill grazing his skin and giving him goosebumps. “She said you were always sick and throwing up from the chemotherapy. But, you didn’t even know what you had before you passed?”

He saw his dad bite his lip, and Eddie wondered if it was difficult for him to remember because dying was so traumatic or because his father didn’t _want_ to remember it. Perhaps it was one of those other things you weren’t supposed to know: what it was really like to die.

“I was definitely throwing up a lot. I was sick to the stomach all day for weeks, but I didn’t go to the hospital for a long while. I went into a clinic once, they gave me antibiotics, then probiotics, and it got to the point I literally couldn’t function. I went to the hospital then. I never thought that it would be the end of the line.” He looked up at Eddie sadly. “I wish I could remember more. I try mainly to focus on you.”

“So, you didn’t hire an attorney or anything?”

“No. I thought I’d be coming out of that hospital bed eventually. Guess I was wrong.”

Eddie took in a deep breath. “Did anyone else come to see you in the hospital? Like, a blond guy with glasses?”

Frank’s jaw tensed and Eddie could actually see red tinge on his cheeks. Ghosts could blush; who knew? “That… was my friend Charlie.”

“Charlie?” Eddie repeated. The name didn’t sound foreign on his tongue, but he couldn’t place a face to it.

His dad still looked a little uncomfortable, his lips pursed, as though he was having an internal conflict in his head whether to tell Eddie something or not. Eddie sat patiently, resting his chin onto his hand propped up on the table. Finally, Frank spoke.

“I met Charlie at work. He brought a car into the shop one day and uh… well, he kept coming back to see me with these minute things here and there, until I finally caught on that he probably knew what he was doing better than I did. When I called him out on it, he asked me out for coffee.”

Eddie’s arm dropped to the table with a thud. “For _coffee?_ Like a _date_?”

Frank started rubbing his brow, looking sheepish. “Yeah, something like that.”

Eddie felt like he had so many simultaneous thoughts that he couldn’t grasp onto one of them to focus on and his brain just went to mush, continuing to stare at his dad with his mouth agape.

“I don’t think it’s genetic,” Frank continued, rubbing his head awkwardly. “It’s probably a coincidence. Or maybe it’s not. Or maybe a gypsy put a curse on your mother, I don’t know.”

Eddie finally snapped back. “You’re gay? You… you’re _gay_? Charlie was your… he was your…”

Frank nodded, rubbing his eyes roughly. “I’m not proud of it; the cheating, I mean. I was a coward and I was afraid of leaving your mother and what it would mean for you. It went on for almost 2 years when I was finally getting ready to make grounds for divorce, make some kind of settlement so you weren’t stuck with her alone. Charlie lived in Bangor in a much more… _friendly_ area, you could say. I never got around to doing any of it though, because I started getting sick…”

“She knew,” Eddie said immediately. “She must’ve found out.”

“I don’t see how.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense,” Eddie said, running his hands through his hair. “She’s… she’s fucking crazy. Dad,” he looked up at his father, voice becoming a whisper. “I think she ended up killing you. Maybe she wasn’t trying to on purpose, I don’t know, but… I think she did this to you. _She’s_ the fucking cancer.”

Frank was studying Eddie’s face, looking like he was trying to dissect Eddie’s words carefully. After a moment, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Eddie’s. It was shockingly warm, like the man was really sitting there full of life and breath and heat.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more for you, Eddie. I know it’s going to be hard for you to cut her out, but you can’t be happy with her in your life. And if what you’re saying is right…” he trailed off, but the implications were perfectly clear: Mother is a monster.

Richie was still out cold when Eddie showered and dressed for the doctor, but he didn’t want to leave him after their last conversation had been so hostile. He leaned down to give Richie a kiss on the forehead; droplets from his still-wet hair dripping onto Richie’s face and making him scrunch up.

“Sorry,” Eddie whispered, wiping them off with his thumb, unsure if Richie actually heard him. He was about to stand to leave, when he felt Richie’s hand close gently on his wrist and looked back down to see Richie’s eyes open, heavy-lidded and still full of sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said hoarsely in return. Eddie smiled and kissed him again.

“Your breath is terrible.”

“Your fault again,” Richie yawned, closing his eyes and nuzzling back into his pillow.

Wentworth was sitting down with a coffee and some breakfast Maggie had made him while Eddie got ready. Eddie had a habit of not eating before his appointments, in case he needed blood work, declining as Maggie attempted to sit him down and push some eggs on him.

“I’ll see you in an hour or so, Eds,” Wentworth said as they left.

It was quiet in the car with Maggie going down to the clinic. Eddie cranked the heat up, because of course it was freezing again and raining, but there was one thing inside him that was burning.

“What happened with my mom last night?” he said, finally breaking the silence.

He saw Maggie’s hands tighten around the wheel, but her voice remained steady. “She just wanted you to go back to her house, Eddie. I told her you were already home and you wouldn’t be returning.”

“How’d she take it?” Eddie probed.

“Not well.”

“What did she say?”

“Eddie,” Maggie warned. “I’m sure you can guess how it went. I need you to try to focus on yourself right now, OK? Promise me that.”

Eddie remained silent, knowing a promise would be a downright lie because of what he was planning on doing this morning. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I’ll just walk down to the office to see Dr. T and have Richie pick me up.”

Maggie scoffed. “Good luck getting Richie up. I’ll just go to the store and do some shopping, how does that sound? Wentworth won’t be long.”

“Isn’t a tooth surgery going to be a couple hours?”

“He’s just taking a look today. He has to check for infection, see if you’re a candidate for implants, get fitted, prep a surgery date – ”

“Do you feel like you know more about teeth than you ever wanted to?”

Maggie sighed. “Yes.”

Despite his head constantly feeling like it was made of cement, Eddie still found it a little jarring when his doctors receptionist, Liv, gasped when he went to check in.

“Hi, Eddie,” she said uneasily. He knew she wasn’t going to ask questions right here with a waiting room of patients, so Eddie just smiled brightly at her and assured her he was OK before going in to get his vitals checked. The nurse kept eyeing him with concern, but noted that his blood pressure was surprisingly low. Well, normal by any standards, but low for Eddie, who was usually a nervous wreck with his mother standing over him and bombarding the nurse with concerns and questions.

Eddie liked his doctor, who he had been seeing since his old physician retired 3 years ago. Dr. Davis was straightforward and blunt, something Eddie could appreciate after years of having a doctor that just complied with what his mother wanted. Eddie remembered when he first saw the new doctor and the look of horror on his mother’s face when he asked her to leave the room for the first time.

“I’m his _mother,_ ” she had said, clearly offended, but he cut her off.

“I understand that Mrs. Kaspbrak, but its protocol for physicians to ask some questions with the patient privately.”

“Dr. McLaughlin never asked for such a thing.”

To Eddie’s amusement, Dr. Davis looked around the room almost mockingly. “I don’t see Dr. McLaughlin here. Guess you’re stuck with how I run things in my office.”

“He’ll just tell me everything after you’re done.”

“He can certainly do that,” Dr. Davis said firmly. “Until then, please step out.”

Eddie had been biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from smiling. Then, Dr. Davis brought up the concern of Eddie’s lengthy history of medications.

“She’ll kill me if I don’t take them,” Eddie told him.

“So take them – in front of her. Spit them out later.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. Dr. Davis sighed.

“Kid, I’m gonna be frank with you here: your mother is cuckoo for cocoa puffs. I’m a little concerned about some of the stuff in your chart.” Dr. Davis narrowed his eyes reading some notes. “A fifteen year old shouldn’t be on Simvastatin. I don’t even know how she convinced them…” he shook his head, rubbing his brow “Are you worried about your safety in the home?”

“No,” Eddie had said truthfully at the time.

“I’ll tell you what,” Dr. Davis said, clicking his pen and grabbing some scripts. “I’m going to prescribe some capsules of all the same stuff I see here. They won’t dissolve in your mouth. Cheek them, spit them out.”

“Capsules? I mean, they’re all placebos, right?”

“More or less,” Dr. Davis said in a cryptic way that made Eddie uncomfortable. “There’s nothing that can _harm_ you here, it’s nothing abusive or cause for severe concern. But I’m sure you’ll be fine without them. I’d love to tell her off and just stop altogether, but I worry about what you’re going to deal with when you go home. So between you and me, you won’t be taking anything. Just make her think you are; keep the peace.”

_Keep the peace,_ Eddie thought now with his face swollen and purple, Dr. Davis checking his face carefully.

“You let a dentist stitch you up?” he asked in amusement.

“Dr. Tozier did a good job,” Eddie said defensively, feeling very protective of Dr. Tozier’s reputation.

“You’ll be living there now?” Dr. Davis asked.

“Yes. I’m not going back, I promise. No more placebos,” he added, smiling.

Dr. Davis nodded, putting his hands in his pocket for a moment before going back to Eddie’s chart. “I suppose you won’t need any refills, then?”

“What about my inhaler?” Dr. Davis paused and looked at him skeptically. “It’s just a comfort thing.”

He watched as Dr. Davis fished through a cabinet and pulled out what looked like a square, blue inhaler, placing it in Eddie’s palm. “No prescription needed. It’s got a CO2 filter; might help ease panic attacks.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said. He then pointed to his bruises. “How about some Vicodin?”

Dr. Davis stared.

“Kidding,” Eddie said quickly, remembering that his chart probably had some red flags about opioids that he had unnecessarily been on in the past. He remembered a couple of brief times he actually wanted to stay shut-in the house because it meant mom giving him some feel good pills. Older Eddie tried not to think about it, feeling grateful he had the friends he did and didn’t find some way to become a heroin addict and vowed never to take pills like that again, knowing how quick he was to _need_ them. He was able to get an anti-inflammatory prescription for now, at least.

Eddie watched Dr. Davis write some notes in Eddie’s file before asking some procedure questions Eddie always had the same answers for. Until –

“Sexually active?”

“Uh… yes.”

He saw the doctor raise his eyebrows and pause for a moment before continuing writing. Geez, don’t act all surprised, doc. “Just make you’re using condoms for penetrative intercourse.”

“You make it sound so sexy,” Eddie blurted out. Dr. Davis actually chuckled before looking up at him.

“That’s not why she…?” He pointed to Eddie’s face. He nodded. Dr. David shook his head, muttering to himself and Eddie thought he caught the word ‘psycho’ in there somewhere.

“Dr. Davis… I think my dad was a patient at this office.”

“He might’ve been,” he said, not looking up.

“Can I look at his chart?” Eddie asked, and then realized how suspicious that sounded. “I’m just… curious, how tall he was.” What a weird fucking thing to say, Eddie.

“Can’t do that.”

“Why?”

Dr. Davis finally clicked his pen and handed Eddie his prescription. “No matter how mundane the information, I can’t be prying into a dead man’s chart. Whatever consent forms that might be in there are expired. I’m technically not even supposed to be looking at anyone’s chart unless they’re under my care, unless I’m given a subpoena for court. Sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a little deflated. But, he had something else in mind that could work. He couldn’t do it today, but maybe Richie would be up for a road trip tomorrow. Before walking to Dr. Tozier’s clinic a few doors down, Eddie hid himself behind a pillar, where he could see his doctor’s office without being in eyesight of the parking lot. It was drizzling, and even though Eddie was under the awning, the wind was blowing hard enough that he might as well be standing directly under the clouds. He pulled his jacket in tight when he finally saw his mom hustling towards Dr. Davis’s office.

“I already saw him,” Eddie said, startling his mother so badly she dropped her keys. It was weird seeing her; it made his chest ache and his breathing so difficult he wanted to reach for the inhaler already, but he stood firmly while she stared at him, wide-eyed. “They’re not going to talk to you anymore. I signed my withdrawal of consent.”

“Eddie,” she started frantically, taking a step towards him, but he threw his arms out, causing her to flinch.

“No! You’re going to listen to me, OK? I’m not coming back, not ever. But… I’m willing to compromise.”

Sonia narrowed her eyes at him, the wet wind whipping her hair around her face wildly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you ever – EVER – want to even speak to me again, you will never say anything derogatory about me again. I’m gay, mom,” he said, and she flinched as though he had tried to smack her. “You need to get over that, because it’s not going to change. Do you understand? I always have been; I’m happy the way I am and if you can’t get over that… then that’s your problem.”

“Eddie, you don’t know what you’re saying,” his mother whined. “This isn’t you. You need to trust me –”

“ _Trust_ you? Look what you did to my _fucking face_!” Eddie practically screamed. There were probably people in the parking lot or in stores that could hear him, but he didn’t quite care. The feelings in his gut were indescribable to him at this moment. It didn’t feel like anger. It was like a deep-seeded disappointment and shame that was accompanied by a stabbing feeling in his chest, similar to when he found out about Georgie years ago, like something had died and could never come back. He knew this couldn’t be the last time he saw her, even if he wanted to – but whatever pleasantries that had passed between them were done. Eddie knew he had to let that sink in, or it would end up killing him; possibly literally.

Before he or his mother could exchange any more heated words, the clinic door burst open, Liv’s small face and petite figure coming out and gripping onto the door handle tightly.

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, you need to leave. If you don’t have an appointment at any of the clinics, you’re trespassing.” Her voice was so shaky, obviously a bit frightened of Sonia at this point, but she was still there protecting Eddie. God, if Eddie were straight he might kiss her right now.

“Excuse me, honey, but he is my son – ”

“Ma’am,” Liv continued, voice breaking a little. “There is an adult person here whom you don’t have permission - ”

“She means fuck off, Sonia.” Eddie didn’t mean to say it, or maybe he did, but it snapped out of him heatedly. Liv’s eyes darted between the two of them, unsure of what to do.

“You’ll see, Eddie,” his mother finally said quietly. “Maybe not today, but one of these days you’re going to realize what poison they put in your mind. They kept you away last night so you couldn’t make a decision for yourself. They’re trying to keep you from me because I wouldn’t let you turn out like their son.”

“Richie isn’t a controlling psycho like you, mom. He loves me, he doesn’t hurt me. I chose to go to Richie’s. _You’re_ the one that’s toxic. You need help.” His voice broke at that last sentence, and he didn’t truly know why. Perhaps he wanted her so desperately to stay in his life, he thought maybe if she could redeem herself… but no. He couldn’t go fooling himself. Sonia probably sensed it, because she said then, with a heavy sigh, “This isn’t over,” before storming off again. He didn’t realize Liv had walked towards him until he felt a small hand on his shoulder, startling him into a karate-like pose, like he’d ever taken karate in his fucking life.

“Sorry!” she said apologetically. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Thanks, Liv. You’re an angel.”

Eddie helped Maggie with the groceries when they returned before she took off to take Penelope to get a haircut. Eddie went up the stairs, fidgeting with a little bottle he had stolen off of the shelf in the pharmacy while he had waited for his prescription and came into Richie’s room and was surprised to see that Richie was up – well, awake. Most of Eddie’s clothes had been put away somewhere with a few remaining things on the floor near the bed. Richie was laying in his boxers and a t-shirt, watching the X-Men animated series.

“Hey, Eds,” he said, lowering the volume while Eddie went over to the bed. “How was y – hmmph!” He didn’t get a chance to finish before Eddie climbed on top of him, straddling Richie on the bed and pulling him up by his shirt to kiss him roughly. Their teeth clashed together awkwardly and Richie was still midsentence when Eddie shoved is tongue into Richie’s mouth, but Richie caught on quickly after a few seconds and gripped Eddie tight around the waist. Eddie sunk his hips down into Richie, licking into his mouth, tasting Richie’s cigarettes and something fruity, like mango, taking a fistful of Richie’s hair and tugging until he felt Richie moan before pulling back out.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Do you really like me being mean to you?”

“You’re always mean and I always love you,” Richie snickered, playing with the waistband of Eddie’s jeans.

Eddie gripped the sides of Richie’s face, every inch of him burning under his skin. “Take my pants off.”

Richie chuckled. “I was planning on it.” He winced when Eddie pulled at his hair again.

“Take them off,” he growled. “Now.”

Richie’s smile disappeared, but he did as Eddie demanded and started unbuttoning Eddie’s jeans immediately, Eddie half-standing up so Richie could shimmy them down to Eddie’s knees. He then looked back up at Eddie expectantly. “Anything else, your highness?”

Richie gasped a little bit when Eddie grabbed his throat. “What do I have to do to get you to shut up and listen?”

Richie blinked up at him, and Eddie had a moment where he wondered if he was taking it too far, but he saw the sides of Richie’s mouth twitch. The sight pulled Eddie’s lips into a simper; Richie really _did_ like this, and for some reason anything Richie liked really turned Eddie on in return.

“What do you want?” Richie said hoarsely, his voice tight from Eddie’s grip on his throat. Richie was propping himself up by his hands on his sides now, and Eddie spread his knees to press them down no Richie’s hands to keep them down. He reached his free hand to the back of Richie’s head.

“Open your mouth.”

Richie complied immediately, leaning his head back a little and sticking his tongue out exaggeratingly, the corners of his mouth stretched from his own amusement. Eddie partially wanted to throttle him, but he started feeling hot just thinking about how _into_ this Richie was, dark eyes intense and the sharp jaw line under his open mouth was sending Eddie’s mind to primal places. With that thought, he took his hand off his throat, the other still holding Richie’s head still, and pulled his cock out in front of Richie’s face, watching the tip drip precum onto Richie’s tongue before he slid it in smoothly.

“ _Jesus fuck,”_ Eddie moaned, letting go of his dick and gripping the headboard behind Richie, who somehow just turned his mouth into a goddamn vacuum and was sucking so enthusiastically that Eddie’s legs twitched. Eddie steadied himself with the grip and adjusted his other hand into Richie’s hair so he could start thrusting a little into Richie’s throat, which started fucking _undulating_. Eddie actually felt a little annoyed now and pulled Richie’s face back. “Are you seriously fucking talking with my dick in your mouth?”

Richie’s amused expression kind of made Eddie want to slap him, and Richie might actually like that. A younger Eddie might have been grossed out by Richie’s chin dripping with his own slobber, but it was actually really hot. “I can’t help myself,” Richie said, his lips upturning into a Cheshire grin. This little shit was asking for it.

Eddie grabbed Richie by the neck again and shoved his head down onto the pillows, taking his knees off Richie’s hands and using them to spread out Richie’s legs. He kept Richie pinned down and reached for the object he had hidden in his pocket from the pharmacy; a small bottle of lube. Richie’s eyes widened a bit in shock and opened his mouth to protest before Eddie let go of his throat and slapped the hand over Richie’s mouth, shushing him. Of course, Eddie knew he wasn’t just going to fuck Richie like this out of the blue (and Eddie wasn’t even sure who he wanted to fuck who first, honestly); Richie had to just shut up trust him for a minute. He fidgeted with the bottle awkwardly, trying to open the cap and pour it into the same palm holding it, still pressing his palm over Richie’s mouth. Richie’s hands were on either side of him as though an invisible force was holding them down, watching Eddie carefully as he tossed the bottle aside and rubbed his fingers together to lather them up.

Richie was just about to reach up, when Eddie straight up slapped him and shot him a warning look as he put his hand back over Richie’s mouth. “Hold still,” he said and promptly shoved two fingers in through the opening of Richie’s boxers, sliding up into Richie’s hole with such fucking ease from the lube. Richie made some sort of animalistic sound against Eddie’s hand and thrust his hip up, but Eddie pressed his weight down onto Richie to keep him steady. Eddie himself was on the verge of coming right then and there feeling Richie writhing around under him and gripping the sheets of the bed tightly while Eddie fingered him roughly. Eddie paused for a moment and slid a third finger in, causing more guttural noises to escape Richie’s throat. Eddie grinned feeling how tight he was. “Jesus, you haven’t had three up there before yet, have you, even alone?” Whatever Richie’s answer was, it was incomprehensible against Eddie hand, and Eddie felt Richie’s breath quickening in his chest, getting him even harder, and he rubbed into Richie’s prostate at a much quicker pace. “C’mon, Rich,” he kept whispering. “I want you to come. Come for me.”

Richie’s hands twisted into the sheets while he pressed his head back into the pillow as hard as he could; Eddie could feel the cum bursting from Richie’s cock underneath him and onto Richie’s shirt while Richie gave a final shudder of bliss. Eddie couldn’t fucking take it anymore, because watching Richie’s face while he came was just agonizingly sexy. Eddie sat up, pulling Richie back up by his shirt again, and _finally_ Richie was at a loss of words, his body lithe and limber as a dead man as Eddie lifted him.

“Open,” he demanded again.

Richie did, all amusement gone, panting and slack-jawed, _exhausted_ , but still fucking eager to do what Eddie told him. Eddie started fucking Richie’s mouth again, and he wasn’t sucking as wildly as before, but he felt lax and open, his hands gripping onto Eddie’s thighs tightly. But when Eddie felt that familiar pull in his belly, the heat in his body was rising and that intense pleasure was escalating, something suddenly burst into his mind: the image of Richie’s grimace in the shower and spitting out Eddie’s cum.

Eddie gasped, both in shock of his incoming orgasm and the realization that he didn’t want to bust completely in Richie’s mouth, and he pulled out just a second too late and watched himself squirt onto Richie’s unexpecting face. “Oh shit!” Eddie exclaimed. “I’m sorry!”

Richie pulled his glasses off, now covered in Eddie’s cum, opening one of his eyes carefully, his thick eyelashes dripping. “Could’ve used a warning, Eds,” he said hoarsely. To Eddie’s relief, Richie winked up at him before pulling his own shirt off and using the clean back of it to dry off his face.

“I’m sorry, Richie,” Eddie said, a hysterical laughter bubbling out of him. “I was trying to spare you from tasting it again, there wasn’t anywhere for you to spit!”

“Oh yeah, this is a much better option,” Richie replied, discarding the shirt and reaching for one of Eddie’s polo shirts on the floor.

“Richie, no! Those are clean!”

“Fuck you, it’s _your_ cum on my face.”

“I gotta admit, seeing you covered in our jizz is getting me hard again.”

Richie shook his head, drying off the rims of his glasses before shoving them back on his clean face. Eddie beamed at him.

“So where did that come from?” Richie asked, his chest still heaving and watching Eddie pull his pants back up.

Eddie shrugged. “Dunno. Just felt… like really confident; happy to be back here with you. I was also really horny.”

“You big sap,” Richie chuckled, pulling Eddie down into bed with him, rolling them onto their sides to kiss softly. “I missed you.”

“Richie I was gone for like 2 hours, tops.”

“I meant the happy you. You’ve been so up and down, and I get it I really do, I mean it hasn’t even been a week, but it just sucks watching you go through this.”

Eddie reached up to touch Richie’s face stroking Richie’s cheek bone with his thumb. “I have you, Richie. I can get through anything.”

Richie pulled Eddie into his chest, stroking his hair softly. Eddie nuzzled into it, slipping his hand onto Richie’s slender waist.

“Hey, Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re still seeing the Losers today, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can we go to Bangor tomorrow? I need to do something.”

“Whatever you want, Eddie my love.”

Eddie buried himself into Richie’s chest, full of nothing but content. Tomorrow, he’d be on a mission for information that he so desperately craved. Today, he’d get to spend with his best friends in the world. And right now he was so warm and tranquil; he honestly felt he could lie here all weekend in Richie’s arms and contemplated asking for exactly that.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I got cum in my eye.”

Eddie sighed; maybe another weekend.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday; a trip to Bangor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hai, March! Woo, another chapter. Thank you all again for your love and support, so happy if you enjoy it. Can’t believe I’m almost at 1000 hits and 100 kudos! Hope this isn't trash. For some reason my computer keeps interchanging advise and advice randomly, I'm not sure why, so sorry if they're mixed up.

The Losers were trekking through old stomping grounds, goofing off and exchanging some of Richie’s weed, eventually making their way to their old clubhouse while trying to figure out what there even was to do in a town this shitty.

“The mall?” Beverly suggested. “Isn’t there one in Bangor?”

“The mall?” Richie cried, plopping himself down on the old hammock. Stan and Eddie’s faces contorted with disgust when dust flew up in a heap. “You become a fucking mallrat now, Marsh?”

“We could see a movie?” Ben offered, throwing his arm around Bev as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not seeing Ace Ventura again,” said Eddie, sitting in the middle of the hammock with Richie, who leaned up and pulled Eddie into him by the waist.

“Well, what do you want to do, Eds?”

Eddie shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable being the executive decision maker. He supposed that no matter where they went, they’d just end up sitting around and talking.

“You guys hear back from any colleges yet?” Bev asked the group. “Ben here just got word from the architecture program at Rice,” she added, beaming up at him.

Bill suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable and Eddie took notice, starting the feel a little uneasy himself. He never liked this conversation, because he knew years ago he was going to be stuck in Maine to remain at home and appease his mother. He thought about applying to other colleges out of state, but he was too afraid of her finding a letter in the mail and never went through with it. As the year went on and Stanley was accepted into NYU on a scholarship, he and Richie agreed they’d live off their college savings (mainly Stanley’s) to get an apartment together. Beverly had eventually let them all know she was accepted into schools in NY, Chicago, and Texas she couldn’t choose between. And now, apparently, so had Ben.

“That’s three schools now!” Mike exclaimed, patting Ben on the back. “Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Ben said shyly. “You hear anything new?”

“I applied to five schools all in Cali and Florida,” Mike sighed. “I need some damn son.”

“Gnarly, dude,” Richie jeered in an awful California accent, waving his hand in a shaka sign.

“What about you, Bill?” Eddie blurted.

Bill couldn’t seem to meet Eddie’s gaze when he spoke. “I got into Berkeley.”

The other Losers offered various congratulations, but Eddie felt queasy. Eddie knew Bill had gotten into the University of Maine with him, but Eddie also knew Bill had sent other applications out. Eddie couldn’t blame Bill; there was no reason Bill had to be stuck in Maine, too, just because _his_ mom was an asshole. He could already see what was going to happen: Richie and Stan would go off to NY, Ben would follow Beverly to whichever state she ended up picking, and Mike would likely pick a California college so he could stay close to Bill and help each other out. That left Eddie all alone, stuck in Maine where his mother could possibly find a way to snake her way back into his life. He didn’t realize he was spacing out until Richie bit his shoulder.

“Ow, what the hell?” Eddie gasped.

“Does that sound OK, Eds?” He wrapped his arms tightly around Eddie as the cold air from the open hatch came in, wet and biting on their skin. “Maybe we can get something fancy, like Chili’s?”

“Huh?”

“We’re going to the _mall,_ ” Richie said with some air of distaste. “They have boujee shops like the Gap.”

“It’s not boujee!” Beverly’s voice came up from the open hatch.

Eddie watched Mike’s legs finally reach above ground through the clubhouse hatch. Only Stan remained back with them, giving Eddie a strange and approving look.

“What?”

Stan sighed. “You guys are actually really cute.”

“Aw, Staaaaan,” Richie cooed, leaning forward in the hammock and reaching his hand out. “C’mere and gimme a kiss – ”

Stan tried slapping Richie’s hand away and somehow ended up with Richie holding it, swinging their hands back and forth as Stan sighed.

“Should I be jealous?” Eddie asked, nudging Richie.

“Please don’t,” grumbled Stan, giving up on fighting Richie off. “Eddie… do you want to come to New York with us?”

“Of course he will!” Richie exclaimed immediately, tightening his grip on Eddie’s waist with his other hand.

“OK, well, I just officially need to make the offer, douchebag.”

“Stan, I can’t ask you to do that,” Eddie muttered, his cheeks reddening. “I’m not going to have any money; I was supposed to stay with my mom…”

“Oh, OK, so we’ll just leave you here to live on the streets, no problem.”

“Stan,” Eddie started, but Richie interrupted.

“Eddie, where the fuck else are you going to go?”

“I didn’t apply anywhere else! I’ll have no money, I won’t be in school, I don’t – I can’t…”

“Community colleges will still take applications,” Stan said. “Plus, it’s not like we need money for a bigger place if you and Richie are going to be sharing a room. My dad’s friend is going to hook us up with a place near SoHo; lots of gays and confectionery shops.”

“See?” Richie said, finally letting go of Stan’s hand to give one of Eddie’s an affectionate squeeze. “ _Confectionary shops._ Plus, you’ll be a huge help, you can make sure Stan doesn’t murder me over mundane things like dish soap and pillow alignment.”

“You’ll be doing us both a favor,” Stan agreed. “You’ll be helping keep Richie from trashing the place and keep him occupied. God knows what he could get up to without a babysitter.”

“Don’t argue!” Richie stuck his index finger on Eddie’s mouth as he was about to do just that. “If you say no, I’m going to tie you up and haul your ass there in a suitcase. Then I can keep you tied up when I throw you in the bedroom and keep you as my little sex slave in there.”

“Please don’t make me change my mind about both of you,” Stanley warned. “If I end up seeing your dick at any point in time, Richie…”

“You’d be blessed to see such a thing.”

Eddie got off of the hammock and pulled Stan into a hug. He was often a little stiff when it came to any kind of affection, but he kindly reciprocated and patted Eddie on the back.

“Thanks, Stan.”

Stan pulled back, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulders. “Honestly, I was betting on Richie staying behind with you, anyway. And that was way before any of this bullshit with your mom. I’d prefer to keep an eye on you two dumbasses.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how he should feel for the rest of the day. His heart rate had escalated, floating back and forth between terrified and elated. He thought he’d somehow be doomed to stay with his mother until he either died or forced himself to marry straight, and he wasn’t sure which was more horrifying. But now here it was, this new life ahead of him with Richie and Stan, and even if Bill would be all the way across the county and the others would be far, too, maybe their commitment to each other could keep the connection strong, even in distance. Oh, how strange it would be to be surrounded by a concrete jungle and millions of eyes, all too busy to care about two boys holding hands on the busy streets and (dare he think it?) kissing under the open sky.

“You can go to the community college with me,” Richie was later saying in the Applebee’s they finally agreed to go to, munching on sliders. “BMCC. I have no idea what kind of classes I should take; maybe I’ll just sign up with whatever you’re doing.”

“Jesus, stop being so dependent, Richie,” Mike huffed playfully.

“What were you planning on studying with your career in standup, anyway?” Bev inquired, sipping a coke.

“Psychology. I want to be a puppet master. I will manipulate anyone into thinking I’m fucking hysterical.”

“I don’t think that’ll turn out the way you think it will…”

“H-hey, Eddie,” Bill whispered, leaning closer to Eddie so that others wouldn’t hear as they continued talking about classes. “I’m r-really sorry I didn’t s-say anything s-sooner.”

“It’s OK, Bill,” Eddie assured him. “I’m not mad or anything. I can’t expect you to stay behind.”

“T-truth is… I thought about staying to k-keep an eye on my parents.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. He knew Bill’s parents had never been the same since Georgie; his mother, in particular, was practically catatonic. “That’s not your responsibility, Bill. You can’t fix everyone. It’ll be better to get away and figure out who you are without them holding you back.”

Bill smiled tightly. “You g-going to f-follow your own advice, K-kaspbrak? G-get out of here and f-finally b-be yourself?”

“Who else would I otherwise be being?” Eddie remarked back.

Bill sighed. “Y-you know w-what I mean s-smartass.”

“You talking about Eddie’s ass?” Richie cut in, swinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “It’s taken, Denbrough. Get your own little booty-shorts hunk.”

“I haven’t worn those shorts since summer before last.”

“Ugh, remind me to buy you some at the Gap so I don’t have to just wank it to my imagination.”

“Enough talk about Richie’s dick,” Beverly interjected. “What are you guys doing tomorrow? Eddie?”

Eddie thought for a moment if he should tell them, wondering if it would spur any uncomfortable questions. However, Richie spared him any more thought about it.

“He needs to go to Bangor tomorrow.”

Stan waved his hand up with an incredulous look on his face. “Dumbass, we’re in Bangor now. Get it over with so we can spend the day with Bev before she leaves.”

“Hey, that’s a good point,” Richie said, shaking Eddie’s shoulders. “What did you need to do? We could do it tonight.”

“Uh, I really don’t want everyone there. I have to see someone, it would be really intrusive.”

“Who do you need to see?” Ben asked.

“A friend of my dads,” Eddie said. The air became very tense and uncomfortable quickly; Stan opted to become very interested in the napkin holder, and Beverly and Ben exchanged odd looks.

“I c-can take everyone b-back,” Bill said finally, coming to Eddie’s rescue. “If Richie t-takes you, I c-can fit everyone else in my c-car.”

The other Losers agreed to dog-pile in Bill’s car after. Eddie felt uncomfortable when no one would let him pay for his own food and started to feel guilty about how much he pigged out. It didn’t help that Richie referred to himself as Eddie’s “sugar daddy” to the waitress with an obnoxious wink as he handed her his and Eddie’s checks with some cash he had. Apparently, he still had a bunch of money saved from his year at the video store. He let Eddie drive, trusting that Eddie knew how to get to his destination, and Eddie felt a bit overwhelmed that Richie trusted him to drive, not only at night, but on the cold, wet roads of such a huge city.

“You’re really putting your life in my hands, you know,” Eddie joked as he made his way across town.

Richie stretched his arms above his head, wrapping them around the headrest behind him and closing his eyes. “My life is yours, Eds. I always trust you to keep me safe.”

“That’s too much responsibility,” Eddie muttered. His heart rate began increasing when he was turning into the smaller neighborhood roads, letting his instincts navigate him. His stomach practically dropped like a brick in his abdomen when he turned onto a street called Chestnut Lane and approached the second house on the right. He put the car in park, stirring Richie to stretch in the passenger’s seat.

“Is this it?”

“I – I think so,” Eddie stuttered, feeling his hand shaking a bit as he turned off the engine. Turning the heat off didn’t help, and he could feel Richie’s eyes bore into him as he looked past him at the small, white house.

“What are we doing here, Eds?”

“Getting answers, I hope,” Eddie said. “Let’s go.”

The only word Eddie could use to describe the neighborhood was, well, adorable. It was all tiny homes with white fences and evidence of preparations for spring gardens. Even in the rain, Eddie saw a lot of appeal in living here. The pathway leading up to the house was a cute cobblestone of multiple colors, darkened and damp and mossy.

“You didn’t start drug dealing since you left your moms, did you?” Richie said as the stepped up to the porch.

“Does this look like the type of house to sell drugs, Richie?” Eddie replied, knocking on the door. The mail box was under the awning of the porch; it was bright red with a Chevy Bel Air sticker decal on the side.

“That’s pretty bitchin’,” Richie nodded approvingly. “I’ll get you some shit like that when we get a house one day.”

“You think about us getting a house?” Eddie asked, a little amazed still that Richie had such domestic endeavors.

“Where else will I make you naked omelets?” Richie chuckled, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie went to say something, but the door opened, giving him a startling jolt.

Eddie got a blast of warmth from the house with a mixture of smells like rosemary and something warm, like leather and oak; it reminded Eddie of an old library. Charlie was almost exactly as Eddie pictured from Dr. Tozier’s description; he wasn’t nearly as tall as Richie (and certainly not as gangly), but he stood a head over Eddie, with feathery blond hair and rimless glasses. The way he pushed them up the bridge of his nose with this middle finger was exactly the way Richie always did.

“Can I help you?” Charlie asked, his brows contracted. His voice was surprisingly soft, but Eddie supposed it fit his face.

“Holy shit, are you the voice of Piglet?” Richie blurted. Eddie’s head snapped back and he smacked Richie in the chest.

“ _The hell is the matter with you?”_ he mouthed.

“Uh, do you gentlemen need something?”

“Sorry,” Eddie said, turning back to him. “Are you Charlie?”

“Yes,” he replied slowly.

“My name is Eddie. Eddie – ”

“Kaspbrak?” Charlie gasped, eyes widening. “Oh my – little Eddie, Frank’s son?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, smiling up at him. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but can we come in?”  
“I – Yes, of course, come in!” Charlie moved out of the way, gesturing the two of them into the warmth of his home.

Eddie could feel how hesitant Richie was behind him, but he followed Eddie in, both wiping their shoes on the matt before Charlie closed the door behind them. Eddie looked around and felt a strange wave of familiarity in Charlie’s home. It was very cozy, with a large puffy loveseat set in front of a burgundy rug and dark-stoned fireplace. The bookshelves were full of what Eddie could see were old war novels, history books and pristine model cars.

“I like your sconces,” Richie said. Eddie was positive Richie had no idea what sconces were and just wanted an excuse to say it.

“Uh, thanks,” Charlie said, cradling a mug he just took off an end table. “I’m sorry, you are…?”

“This is Richie,” Eddie offered, reaching up and putting a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “He’s my boyfriend. Richie, this is my dad’s boyfriend, Charlie.”

Both Charlie and Richie both snapped their heads at Eddie in complete astonishment. Eddie didn’t quite mean to blurt it out, but at this point he figured it was better to just put everything out in the open, hoping Charlie would reciprocate the honesty and open up.

“This is your _what_?” Richie stammered.

“He was with my dad before he got sick,” Eddie explained, his eyes on Charlie, whose mouth hung open slightly in shock.

“How did you remember that?” Charlie finally asked, leaning back against the railings of his stairs. “You were so little and… god, you never walked in on anything, did you?”

“No, no,” Eddie assured him. “I’ve just been putting some pieces together. I wasn’t positive, but I wanted to talk to you to be sure and – well, I guess you just confirmed that.”

“Your dad was with a _guy?_ ” Richie croaked, his brain starting to catch up.

“I can’t really believe you’re standing in my living room right now.” Charlie started tapping his mug, looking over at Eddie admiringly. “I thought after Frank – after your father passed, I wouldn’t be part of anything in his life again. Yet, here you are… and with a boyfriend.”

“I’m so sorry,” Richie interjected. “But, how did you find out about this guy and your dad boning?”

“Richie, for fucks sake,” Eddie said through gritted teeth. “Beep beep.”

“How did you remember where I lived?” Charlie asked, electing to ignore Richie for now.

“My dad brought me here when I was little?”

“Not often. Just a few times when your mother went to visit her sister…” Charlie paused, an odd shudder overcoming him. “How is Sonia lately?”

“A fucking nightmare,” Richie said, reaching over and gently taking Eddie’s chin. “Look what she did to his mug.”

“Jesus,” Charlie said softly, his face twisting in horror. “Was this – was it because of…?” He gestured to Richie, who nodded.

“Which brings me to what I came here to ask, actually,” Eddie continued.

“You need a place to stay?”

“W-what?” Eddie stammered. “No –”

“He lives with me,” Richie said sternly, pulling Eddie closer.

“Oh,” Charlie sighed. “Good, that’s good. I’m really glad he has you, then.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, trying to pry Richie’s protective vice grip off his shoulder. “But I actually had a few questions about my dad. Did my mom know you went to see him at the hospital? Or about you at all?”

“We met a few times,” he said uncomfortably. “She always insisted to Frank there was something… ‘wrong’ with me. We tried keeping things casual before they escalated, and eventually your mom she… kept making sure Frank was busy.”

“But you still saw him? I’m not trying to judge here, I’m just trying to paint a clear picture.”

Charlie nodded. “I guess I don’t need to tiptoe around about how your mom was. He was trying really hard to figure out how to leave and make sure you didn’t get stuck with her. I know he was talking to a lawyer, but I don’t think he got to show her the paperwork before he got sick.”

“He got divorce papers?” Eddie asked, getting that weird queasy feeling in his stomach. “You’re sure she didn’t know?”

Charlie shrugged, moving uncomfortably, looking a little frightened. “I don’t – I really don’t know.”

“You think she did something, don’t you?” Eddie could feel his heart pounding, the beat uncomfortable in his chest.

“Well, it’s not like I could prove it exactly, can I?” Charlie sputtered, sounding a little hysterical. “Who was I suppose to say that I was? I would’ve just been some crazy queer, no one would’ve listened. Look… I loved Frank, I really did, but he told me he was going to leave her for years, _years_. If he wasn’t going to get the courage to leave, maybe it was the quickest way out for him. Maybe it was for the best.”

Eddie felt white-hot anger spread under his skin. Richie seemed to express Eddie’s exact thoughts.

“Maybe for the best you left a fucking _child_ alone with a psycho that kills her husband? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“No, Richie, it’s OK,” Eddie said coolly. “Maybe my dad was a coward. I guess that made them perfect for each other.”

Charlie scoffed. “I’m sorry, but did you two come out here just to attack me over something from over a decade ago that I had _no_ control over?”

“Why didn’t you _say something_?” Eddie implored. “Literally anything to anyone? If you even had the slightest suspicion… they could’ve done something.”

Charlie put down his mug, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Let me help you paint this picture, Eddie… a very upset, grieving mother with a small child gets blamed by a gay man in the early 80’s of killing her husband, who was prone to frequent illnesses. Tell me, how does that look? Besides, you seemed to be doing fine.”

“H-how would you know that?”

“Because,” Charlie started before pausing. Eddie realized his eyes were watering a little. “I checked on you a few times. I didn’t check often, and I probably haven’t been back to Derry in a decade; I didn’t want to look like a pervert driving by to check on a kid in the playground. But I usually saw you playing and having fun, happy as any other kid in the playground.”

Eddie felt a little embarrassingly stupid, but his anger didn’t subside. “You should’ve known what she was capable of; especially if you knew what she did to my dad.”

Charlie hung his head, sniffling. “I am sorry, Eddie. It’s not excusable, I know that. Every time I went back to Derry to say something, I… I don’t know, I became overwhelmed and wanted to leave and then… I’d almost kind of forget about going there. Jesus, I felt like I’d forget about that town altogether if I didn’t see signs for it everywhere.”

Eddie and Richie exchanged looks; they knew exactly why Charlie had such a hard time coming back to Derry. In Mike’s research, there seemed to be some sort of curse that Pennywise had over the town, even during It’s slumber. Perhaps now, in It’s absolute absence, Charlie was able to remember more clearly.

“Can I call my mom?” Richie said suddenly. “I want to let her know we already ate dinner.”

Charlie blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback. “Uh, yes; in the kitchen over there.” He pointed to an open entrance on the other side of the room.

“I’ll be right back, OK?” Richie gave Eddie an affectionate squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. Eddie was positive Richie was giving Eddie some space to ease the tension with Charlie. He was partially grateful, partially embarrassed.’

“He’s sweet. Very protective,” Charlie said, his voice more steady.

“Yeah, he’s… he’s great.”

“Can I give you something?”

“Uh, sure.”

Charlie walked past Eddie over to one of his book shelves, kneeling down to open a cabinet on the bottom and pull out an old shoe box. He stood up and brought it over, reaching out to place it in Eddie’s hands.

“Open it.”

Eddie did, lifting the lid to find a small little model of a Chevy Bel Air, the same color and design displayed on Charlie’s mailbox outside. It was still in decent condition, but there was a small dent in the driver’s side door from –

“This was mine,” Eddie whispered, gently stroking the roof of the car. “I dented it when I drove it off the dinner table. I’m surprised mom didn’t yell at me.”

“That’s because it was my dinner table,” Charlie said. “I bought you that. Your dad never let it leave this house.”

Eddie pulled out a few Polaroid’s, displaying some admittedly cute, happy pictures of his dad and Charlie. There was even one of Frank in this very living room, a young Eddie on his lap, both smiling and looking at each other like no one else mattered in the world.

“Why – ” Eddie paused, the word catching in his throat with an ugly spit bubble, trying to compose himself. “Why are these in your living room?”

Charlie chuckled. “A small word of advice: when boyfriends and guests stay over, they usually snoop in your bedroom or bathroom.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. It was just… hard to let go. But, you can have them if you want.”

“Really?” Eddie asked, looking up, feeling shameful for having snapped at Charlie before.

“Of course,” he said, smiling down at him. “I think whatever is left of your dad belongs to you. You deserve that. I wish you had more time to know him. He was a really special guy. I’m sorry if I made him out to be… a coward. People who are abused, they – they’re not weak. It takes a _lot_ of strength to live with that, and more than just courage to get out. It’s so incredibly difficult, especially with a kid involved.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too; really. Thank you, Charlie.”

Charlie beamed. “You do look tremendously like him, you know. You have the same eyes. Maybe if you trade in those freckles for a tan, you’d almost be twins.”

“Careful; my boyfriend thinks you’re hitting on me, what with offering me a place to stay and all.”

“Oh, geez,” said Charlie, looking a little embarrassed. “He has nothing to worry about, don’t worry. I’m sorry about what happened with Sonia… but I am so very happy you two have each other.”

Eddie looked over just in time for Richie to come in. Eddie couldn’t help but smile, his face lighting up just from Richie’s presence entering the room once again.

“Me too.”

Maggie greeted Eddie and Richie ecstatically when they came home, giving Eddie a particularly tight hug and kiss on the cheek. “Eddie, you’re soaked! Why don’t you take a hot shower and get into bed?”

“Where’s my kiss?” Richie pouted.

“Oh, of course honey,” she said absently, giving Richie a quick peck before fussing over Eddie’s coat. “This should go in the dryer. Eddie, go upstairs and get warm. Richie, are you going to help me with – ?”

“Yup,” he said immediately. “I’ll be right up, Eds.”

“Do you need any help?” Eddie offered.

“Don’t be silly,” Maggie scoffed, escorting Eddie unnecessarily to the stairs. “Just make yourself at home, OK?”

Eddie placed the shoe box in Richie’s room, grabbing a towel before heading into the bathroom. The steam was refreshing against his cold, clammy skin. It hadn’t even been a full week since his life became out of control. It was Saturday night and he confessed his love to Richie on _Tuesday,_ for crying out loud. The wounds on his face were still feeling raw and fresh. And now he had this newfound confidence that his mother was straight up _evil_ , and was positive she was the reason his father was gone. But what was he supposed to do with that now? Charlie had been right, and it was far too late to try to pin it on her after all this time. No one would’ve believed Charlie, and Eddie wasn’t sure if they’d believe her queer son either, not after possibly knowing that his mother tried to _fix_ him. If Eddie was to take anything from this, is that he had to follow through with the promises he made to Bill and to Richie… and never go back to her. He didn’t understand why it was so goddamn hard, why he had this gnawing feeling in his gut, this sensation pulling his thoughts back to her, like it was all _his_ fault and he was just being a bad son. It was like a string was still hooked into his skin and she still had a tight grip, trying to reel him back to her like a flailing fish.

 _It hasn’t even been a week, Eddie,_ he reminded himself. _Give it time; you’ll let her go._

Even though all of his laundry had been done, he still ended up in Richie’s clothes to go to bed. They were comforting, like having a part of Richie and his scent surrounding him and hugging his skin. He nestled himself under the covers, his hair still damp on the pillows, sighing into them to get more of that comforting smell into him. _This is home, Eddie. You can’t go back. There’s no going back._

The door opened with a bang, causing Eddie to jump a little. Richie came in, a cow-patterned apron on, carrying a tray, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“What is that?” Eddie asked, sitting up. The scent hit him before Richie even answered.

“Chocolate chip cookies and milk!” Richie said, beaming as he carried the tray to the bed. “Scoot over, sweetheart.”

“Did you just bake these?” Eddie moved over so Richie could set the tray on his lap and crawl under the covers with him.

“Of course. Hot and fresh, just the way you like them. I know you don’t fuck around with that crunchy Chips O’hoy shit, my love.”

Eddie practically moaned biting into one, the chocolate gooey and melting on his tongue. “They’re fucking perfect.”

“We’re going to master this domestic shit,” Richie said, wrapping an arm around Eddie and pulling him in close to his chest, taking a cookie for himself. “I’m sorry if this is fucked up to say, but… all things considered… I’m so glad you’re here now, Eds. These past couple of days, this could be us for the rest of our lives; just eating sweets and being happy.”

“That’s a little idealist, don’t you think?” Eddie mumbled, cookie in his mouth.

“Fuck that. Why is just being happy so unrealistic?”

“Because life is shit wall-to-wall. It’s scary and stressful and – ”

“That’s Sonia talking.”

Eddie paused, watching Richie reach for his milk, the gulps from his drinking loud against his ear pressed into Richie’s chest. He put his cup down and settled on Eddie not having a response to that.

“I’m happy, Eddie; here with you. This is all I need.”

Eddie smiled, pulling his hand away from the tray to wrap around Richie’s slender waist. “I’m really happy, too, Richie.”

_This is home, Eddie. There’s no going back._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cute little spring break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably pace myself since some bits after this are proving difficult to write. I so so love your comments, they fuel me to get motivated. BUT, this chapter a little small and is pretty much nothing but fluff and smut.   
> So enjoy it...

Beverly leaving was a little crushing, and the boys had a difficult time letting her go as they each hugged her at the bus stop. Ben eventually had to peel Eddie and Richie off of her so he could get a goodbye kiss before sending her off.

“That’s not fair,” said Richie. “He’ll be spending all of spring break in Portland with her.”

“Y-you still have me to sm-smoke with,” Bill offered, clasping a hand on Richie’s shoulder.

“It’s not the same Denbrough,” Richie sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette before Eddie pulled it out of his hand and threw it to the ground.

“Yeah, Bill, he’ll be quitting anyway,” said Eddie, stomping on the butt while Richie stood there, mouth hung open.

“That was cold, sweetheart.”

Eddie could’ve almost tried to bury away the thoughts about what happened, if it weren’t for the wildfire of information that already reached the students at school. He walked back in on Monday ready to quietly disclose his circumstances to the staff and move on, but instead he and Richie were greeted with a chorus of ‘faggots’ and ‘cocksuckers’ from the sea of their peers.

“It’s nothing we haven’t gotten before,” Richie tried to assure him, his arm jerking oddly, as though he was about to put his arm around Eddie before thinking better of it.

“This is different,” Eddie muttered, desperately trying to change out his books in the locker and run to class. “They have confirmation now.”

Stan appeared on the other side of Eddie, his back against the lockers.

“It says ‘Richie Tozier sucks flamer cock’ in the bathrooms now.”

“Nice,” Richie said. “But I’m afraid those interested will be disappointed; my eyes are only set on one Italian sausage.”

“I’m not Italian, Richie.”

“Polish kielbasa?”

“Please stop.” Eddie slammed his locker and hung his head against the metal. Another person muttered some slurs behind him.

“You people are awfully obsessed with what we do with our dicks for a bunch of straights,” Richie shouted back at them. “For fucks sake.”

Eddie thought about when he took his driver’s test a few years ago; it was almost Thanksgiving, he had just turned 16, and the roads were already icy. Bill talked him up to go, but he was still shaking when he got behind the wheel, not yet confident in his driving skills.

“What if I run over black ice and slip?” he had asked the instructor nervously.

“Turn the wheel towards the direction the back of the car is sliding,” she said nonchalantly. “Just steer into the skid.”

How the fuck was he supposed to steer himself into this nightmare? His only solace was that Richie was the size of a tree, so maybe nobody would physically attack him. His face was finally healing and he wasn’t keen on adding more injuries. He hadn’t been properly beaten up since sophomore year when Richie had his growth spurt and before Ben and Mike joined the football team. This didn’t stop him from coming to school agitated and jumpy every single day, but at least now when he came home it was to a warm, welcoming home, with Richie and Maggie trying their best to fatten him up. Richie spent about every waking moment keeping Eddie’s mind (and body) occupied to keep him from shutting down and it was working pretty well. Eddie forgot Easter was already on Sunday and thought Richie was pulling his leg.

“I don’t have any nice clothes!” Eddie said frantically when they came home that Friday afternoon. “All my button-ups were in the back of my closet, the guys didn’t get them out of the house… oh God, what if my mom shows up?”

“Don’t fret, mi amor,” Richie said, pulling out a package of Oreos and setting his backpack on the kitchen table. “As long as Mama Bear runs this house, your pretty little ass is safe. Oh FUCK ME!” Richie ran to the sink and started spitting out bits of Oreo. “Who the FUCK replaced all the cream with goddamn TOOTHPASTE?”

“Dad,” said Penelope, coming in to grab some chips. “His subtle way of reminding us to brush our teeth or he’ll pull them out in our sleep.”

“At least someone brought donuts,” said Eddie, grabbing one from a Dunkin’ Donuts box. Unfortunately, the sweet cream he was expecting wasn’t there, and instead he got a mouthful of something fatty and slimy instead, and he immediately spit it right back into the box.”

“Mayonnaise,” Richie said. “Classic, Penny.”

“April Fool’s, douchebags,” Penelope said, flipping them off when she left the kitchen.

“You don’t actually have to dress up for Easter at the Tozier house, Eds,” Richie said, plopping down on a chair. “Dad’s parents don’t talk to us, and mom’s family is out in Colorado. It’ll just be us eating ham and watching movies. I mean, if you really want to dress up, I can take you shopping.”

“Is that another joke?” Eddie asked, rubbing the mayo off his tongue with a napkin.

“Of course not, babycakes. I’ll dress you to the nines and strut you around the house like the sexy stud you are.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Eddie said, but leaned down to hug Richie affectionately. “But I will be bumming it around in whatever fashion the Tozier house deems appropriate.”

“Birthday suit?” Richie asked hopefully, leaning his head back to nibble on Eddie’s chin.

“Maybe after dinner.”

Despite Richie’s assurance that his love handles were “sexy, mushy, Richie handles,” Eddie took advantage of the extra calories and protein he was finally taking in and woke up extra early to start exercising every day over break. Richie didn’t appreciate Eddie turning the light on in the bedroom at first, but started learning to love waking up to watch Eddie doing sit-ups on the floor in nothing but boxers.

“I think I spoke prematurely when I told you that you didn’t have to work out,” he said one day over Spring break, propped up on his elbow and just watching Eddie while biting is lip. “I’ll shut the fuck up about everything forever if I get to wake up to this every day.”

“Bull…shit,” Eddie said between his sit-ups. “Nothing… will get you… to be quiet.”

Richie sighed dramatically and Eddie felt his eyes wandering over his body. “Is my gaze getting you hot, Edward?”

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, pulling his legs closer together because damn it if Richie wasn’t right and he was starting the get a hard-on now.

“I’ve actually been thinking,” Richie continued. “Do you remember when you asked me to fuck you on the dryer?”

Eddie stopped, grabbing onto his knees to support himself. “Uh… yes. I also remember you saying no.”

“Did you still want to?”

“I mean, not specially on the dryer, but obviously I do.”

“So… you want _me_ to…? Or did you want to…?”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “I don’t know. Do we have to choose? Why can’t we both do it?”

“We absolutely can, but someone has to go first; unless you’ve been taking contortionist lessons in your free time that I don’t know about?”

Eddie chuckled nervously. “No, definitely not… I don’t know. What would you rather do?”

Richie sat up and shrugged. “Flip a coin?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie snickered.

“Do you have a better solution?” Richie reached into his nightstand to grab some change.

Eddie swallowed, starting to feel a little nervous. “Wait, right now?”

Richie paused. “I mean, we can shower first.”

“Isn’t… isn’t everyone home?”

“Dad is about to go to work, mom and Penny are probably sleeping…”

They stared at each other for a moment before Eddie finally stood up. “I guess… I’ll go… shower now.”

Richie cocked his eyebrow. “With me, or…?”

Eddie was suddenly feeling very aware of every part of his body. “Actually, maybe we can shower separately?”

“You sure? We’ll be missing out on some sexy, wet foreplay.”

Richie leaned over, his long arms able to reach out and pull Eddie towards the bed by the band of his boxers. Eddie expected him to get grabby, but he just held Eddie around the waist and started kissing the soft skin of his belly.

“That tickles,” Eddie giggled, wiggling a bit and causing Richie to pull him in closer. He held onto Richie’s head like a fluffy anchor. “I’m all gross and sweaty.”

“You’re never gross,” Richie mumbled, his breath hot on Eddie’s skin. Eddie felt his lips turn up in a smile against his hip bone. “I can feel that, you know.”  
“Feel what?” Eddie said dumbly, knowing full well his erection was pressing up against Richie’s chest.

Richie gave one last peck and looked up at Eddie, his eyes dark and lustful. “I can behave in the shower if you want to wash up.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Honestly, I’m going to end up wanting to fuck in there. I haven’t exactly been patient.” He let out a hiss when Richie reached down and squeezed his legs, his thumbs pressing on the skin of his inner thighs. “Maybe fuck the showers.”

“Don’t you want to get squeaky clean?”

“I showered last night,” Eddie breathed. Richie was still rubbing his thumbs into Eddie’s thighs, getting closer and closer to the heat under his boxers. He finally pried Richie’s hands off and climbed up into his lap, leaning down to kiss him. He felt Richie’s arms wrap around his bare back, reaching up to Eddie’s shoulders to press him down and grind their hips together, making sure Eddie knew exactly how hard he was. Eddie could feel how sticky they were from sweat from working out and sleep, and could practically taste it on their tongues sliding together, but it didn’t deter him or gross him out like it might’ve years ago. Richie finally pulled away with an audible _pop_ from their lips.

“You want to do this?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Yes,” Eddie breathed onto Richie’s lips. “I really fucking do.”

“How?”

Eddie truly didn’t know. He wanted Richie _really_ badly, but he wasn’t sure quite how yet. “Flip the coin.”

Richie let out a breathy laugh. “As you wish.”

Eddie moved off of Richie and onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard while Richie picked up a quarter.

“Alright… heads I get your head, tails I get your tail.”

“You have such a way with words,” said Eddie, but his heart flipped in his chest when Richie flipped the coin up in the air, smacking it on the back of his arm. He held his hand over it for a few seconds before slowly revealing the results: tails.

“You OK with that?” Richie asked softly, looking nervous.

Eddie nodded, suddenly feeling unable to speak, his mouth dry.

“Because we don’t _have_ to, the coin was just a suggestion.”

But Eddie leaned forward, fisting Richie’s shirt, pulling him on top of Eddie while they kept kissing (albeit a bit clumsier than they had been before). They took a break to get Richie’s shirt off, but Eddie slid his hands into Richie’s hair and pulled him in tight, pressing their chests together. He felt their racing heart beats against each other and desperately wanted to be as close to Richie as possible and now the idea of having Richie _inside_ him started to fully plant itself in and consume this thoughts.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped against Richie, who pulled back with a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’re finally going to do this.”

Richie smiled, and it was one of his rare smiles absent of humor and radiated pure warmth, as he reached up to stroke Eddie’s face. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, Eds.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie heard himself say.

“Don’t be. I would’ve waited a lifetime.” He kissed Eddie again fiercely, and Eddie felt him struggling to slip out of his flannel pajama pants until the bare skin of Richie’s legs tangled with his own. He could feel their cocks pressing against each other through the thin fabric of their underwear, but he knew his ass wasn’t going to get ready on its own. Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry about that long; Richie pulled off of him, reaching over into his nightstand again for lube and a condom. He set the condom down next to Eddie, who felt a little intimidated staring at it.

“Is that… does that say blueberry?”

“It’s just for the smell; I know you’re sensitive to them.”

“Aren’t you not supposed to use flavored for sex?” Eddie asked cautiously while Richie helped pull his boxers off.

“Yeah, only if you’re worried about yeast infections in your vagina.” Eddie winced. “Sorry. Shutting up.”

Eddie breathed out to steady himself, watching Richie lube his fingers up. He had gotten used to the sensation over the last week; Richie had even stretched in three fingers the other day. But laying here with his ass in the open, staring down at Richie’s dick was a little intimidating. Richie moved back over Eddie, wetting Eddie’s lips with his tongue simultaneously as he fingered his hole, forcing Eddie to let out a small gasp into Richie’s mouth. Every nerve of his body was on fire and he pulled Richie down with all of his limbs so he could feel his weight pressing on every inch of his skin, Richie’s arm between them forcing only a small gap between their chests. Eddie was afraid of prying Richie’s mouth off of his after Richie’s third finger went in, worried that his moans would amplify without Richie’s tongue in the way. He felt Richie shuffle over him before pulling his fingers out and realized Richie was reaching for the condom.

Eddie didn’t realize how tense he had become until Richie started kissing and nibbling his neck.

“You sure you want to do this, right?”

“Uh huh.”

Richie lifted his head to look at him. “I feel like I’m kissing a block of wood; you’re stiff as a board.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said, breathing out slowly and trying to loosen up.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to go first?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“OK. You know we don’t have to do this at all, right? It’s not mandatory. I was serious when I said I’d wait a lifetime. Having you at all is a blessing.”

“I know. But I still want to. Can’t knock it if we don’t try it, right?”

Richie chuckled lowly, going to kiss Eddie’s neck again. Eddie was trying to match his breathing to Richie’s, mindfully relaxing himself from head to toe with each breath. He kept the calm demeanor as Richie lifted himself back up all the way and started to unwrap the condom. Eddie was actually pretty happy for the subtle fruity scent, taking it in slowly.

“Think it’ll turn my dick blue?” Richie asked jokingly.

“Richie,” Eddie warned.

“Sorry.” It was kind of endearing watching him figure out which direction the damn thing was supposed to roll on. Derry didn’t exactly pride itself on its sex education classes. “I think I got it…”

Eddie took another deep breath. “Ready when you are.” His voice was shakier than he meant it to be. Richie leaned over, hovering just over Eddie again, keeping himself up with one of his arms to adjust himself between Eddie’s legs.

“Promise you’ll say something if I’m hurting you or you want to stop, OK?”

Eddie nodded. “Promise.”

At first, the sensation was familiar, and Eddie thought he was fully prepared. He took another breath and Richie allowed himself to push in more as Eddie exhaled and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a yelp and a moan, maybe even a _whine_. He felt himself tense up again, and Richie paused, keeping himself steady above him.

“You OK?”

“Yup,” Eddie said in a strained voice.

“Eds…”

“OK, I’m OK,” he assured Richie, feeling himself relax again. He was definitely not prepared, but he was allowing himself to get used to it. He wasn’t fully aware of how _much_ of Richie he would feel, and it was a lot. He felt positively full and he knew Richie was holding back a bit still. Realizing it would probably help to participate a little more, he pulled Richie’s waist in a little with one of his hands, the other reaching up to his neck and pulling down to kiss him, letting out another one of those embarrassingly whiney noises with Richie’s thrust.

“Jesus,” Richie breathed. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

He wasn’t sure why, but it made Eddie giggle a little before relaxing even more, letting Richie’s slow strokes elicit those noises unashamedly now, realizing his body was reacting this way because it was starting to feel fucking fantastic. There was an underlying feeling, not quite painful, but like stretching a muscle he hadn’t used in a long time, but it wasn’t totally distracting. He felt Richie’s free hand reach under his thigh, just under his ass to lift Eddie’s hips up a little, which caused Richie to mutter a string of expletives with the new angle and he buried his face into Eddie’s neck. Every hot breath of Richie’s there sent a quivering sensation through Eddie’s body, and there was a feeling in his chest like his heart kept trying to descend out of its cavity, like he was repeatedly falling over and over again, and he gripped onto Richie tighter to keep himself grounded because he still, _still_ , could not believe this was happening.

“Rich,” he gasped. “I’m getting close.”

Richie adjusted himself, pressing the weight of his chest onto Eddie’s so he could use his supporting arm to reach down between them and start stroking Eddie to the rhythm of his thrusts, still grunting and panting into Eddie’s neck. His brain felt like it short-circuited trying to figure out how to concentrate on all these sensations at once, until they all collided together in a wave that spread from his gut throughout his body, feeling the familiar sensation of cum between them. He bit into his lip and tugged onto Richie’s hair tightly to stop himself from flat out screaming out while Richie shuddered against him and bit into his shoulder harshly.

It was difficult to catch his breath when Richie basically collapsed on top of him. Even his gasp came out strained when he felt Richie shift, pulling out of him below and relaxing over him again. They both lay there, still except for their heavy breaths, and Eddie’s ears started buzzing with the realization of how quiet the room was.

“Do you think… we were too loud?” he panted, untangling his fingers from Richie’s hair to stroke his back.

“Prffby,” was the sound he heard Richie muffle into the pillow before he slowly lifted up to look at Eddie. His pale face was almost blinding to Eddie’s weary eyes. He felt lightheaded and dazed, reaching up to touch Richie’s face for some confirmation that he really was there and this _really_ just happened. And damn it all, but he felt his eyes start to water and sting, because of fucking course he was crying after having sex with the love of his life; he had been doing so well this week, too.

“Shit, sorry,” Eddie squeaked.

“Hey,” Richie said softly, reaching up with his clean hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. Eddie realized his eyes were watering too, which just made him want to sob more. “What happened?”

Eddie shook his head, a few tears spilling out. “Nothing. I’m just… really fucking happy.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” Richie laughed quietly. He kissed Eddie again and Eddie wrapped his limbs around him tightly, feeling one of Richie’s tears fall on his cheek. “I love you so much, Eds.”

“I love you, too.”

It was bittersweet when spring break came to an end. Eddie wouldn’t be spending every moment with Richie, but he was getting closer to ending the school year and leaving Maine with each passing day. They had spent their last days of break demolishing the snack cabinet and snuggling in Richie’s bed watching Quantum Leap. After the initial shock of having sex wore off, Richie offered to try again on the last night with himself on bottom, but Eddie wanted to wait.

“I just don’t want to feel like we’re rushing anything. We have all the time in the world, right?” Eddie asked with Richie’s head in his lap.

“Of course, Eds,” said Richie, taking Eddie’s hand and holding it to his chest. “We have forever.”

Sonia remained on the back of Eddie’s mind every time he was out of the house or walked near a window. The paranoia wouldn’t subside and he hated himself a little bit for missing her. There wasn’t anything even in particular he missed about her, and it made him sick thinking about it. But she was his mother, so it was normal, right? He wondered if her complete absence was from lack of caring or caring enough to give him space… or plotting something darker. He wanted to stop caring himself, but the thoughts ate at him.

Despite almost 3 weeks since the incident, Eddie returned to school to be greeted with just as much homophobic enthusiasm as he had when he first came back 2 weeks ago.

“Y-you’d think they had s-something more interesting to t-talk about,” Bill said in the hall, as Eddie got shoulder-checked by another senior calling him a fairy.

“Shame we can’t go full Carrie on them at Prom,” said Richie. “But no, Eddie gets boned out of super awesome mind powers and ends up being a human GPS instead.”

“You want to go to prom?” Eddie and Stan asked simultaneously.

“Of course I fucking don’t. That’s not the point. We’re supposed to go and get stoned and make fun of everyone else going.”

“Do we go to prom together?” Eddie asked him, pausing near their econ class, Stan hanging back to wait for Ben to walk to calc.

“Duh, Spaghetti. I don’t think they’ll have any way to stop us unless we straight up suck each other off in the gymnasium.”

“As much as I want to argue,” said Stan. “The two of you blowing off the school by blowing each other would be a fucking hysterical send off.”

“T-tell the school to fuck off b-by fucking each other,” Bill added, laughing with Stan and Richie. “I-if the last b-bit of Richie Mrs. Lance g-gets is his d-dick while she’s throwing him out, I’ll d-die happy.”

Eddie was very aware of how many eyes were glancing at them in the hall, how many whispers around him were directed at him and Richie. He tugged at the straps of his backpack tight, securing it on his shoulders. He stood up tall, grabbing Richie’s face and pulling him down to kiss him right there in the hallway, a muffled surprised noise coming from Richie, but he didn’t fight it off. Eddie didn’t pay attention to whatever reactions it caused around him, not even Bill and Stan's whooping, but pulled away and looked Richie directly in the eye like no one else mattered.

“What was that for?” Richie asked.

Eddie shrugged and smirked. “Fuck it; fuck this school; let’s steer into the skid. We're done hiding.”

Richie grinned right back at him, ready to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...while it lasts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie gets sick - 
> 
> no guys, he's actually sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO, this wasn't inspired by the coronavirus, but what timing, eh?

It was nearing May and Eddie was finally learning how to make good food besides the bland no-fat, no-sodium, no-lactose, no-anything-good shit he was used to making for himself at home while his mom stuffed her face with Little Debbie’s cupcakes. The last weekend up April, Eddie began getting a weird sinking feeling in his gut that he tried to push away be distracting himself with Richie in the kitchen. When Richie wasn’t accidentally setting something on fire, his flavor profile was actually insanely good. He finally came around to learning to make a decent veggie omelet and went all out with paprika home fries.

“The perfect omelet?” he asked Eddie over breakfast one Saturday morning.

“Not perf,” Eddie mumbled before swallowing a mouthful of egg. “You weren’t naked, and I was promised naked.”

“Well I’m about to get naked. Care to join me in the shower?”

“I was just in there,” said Eddie, his hair still wet and moppy. He still hadn’t gotten a haircut and it was starting to curl as bad as Richie’s. “Why didn’t you ask me to wait?”

Richie sighed, clearing the table. “I was trying to surprise you with breakfast.”

“Fair enough. Hurry up so we can go back to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Richie said with a wink.

Eddie didn’t feel much like putting the TV on waiting for Richie, even though the house was eerily quiet with everyone else either at work or the store. Eddie could feel how wicked hot it was getting outside through the heat beating in through the window was just taking his shirt off to change into something cooler when Richie shouted upon entering the room in his bath towel.

“FREEZE!”

Eddie stopped, his arms still up and shirt awkwardly bunched up at his neck. “Uh, yes?”

“Look at the mirror right now.” Eddie shimmied around to look at the mirror in the same position. “Do you see that?”

“Oh shit,” Eddie chuckled. The working out at home and with Mike and Ben for the past month had started to pay off; he had _abs._ “I mean, it’s only when I’m flexing. I’m still pretty doughy.”

“Fucking Christ,” Richie said before helping Eddie out of the shirt and pushing him back to the bed. Eddie was still laughing while Richie was trying to kiss him on the mattress.

“Is this all it takes? I just have to flex my stomach and you pounce me like this? Jesus, Rich,” he chuckled as Richie started prying his jeans off.

“Why are you complaining, Eds?” He took Eddie’s boxers off. Eddie didn’t even have time to make another comment before Richie’s mouth was on his cock and he let himself collapse onto the mattress while Richie reached his arms up to rack his fingers down his chest and abdomen.

“Not… complaining,” he managed, hardening like a rock in no time at all. How the hell were they going to control themselves when they went away to New York and had their _own_ place? Richie was particularly animalistic this morning and Eddie was panting at the sensations of Richie’s moans vibrating around his dick and knew he was touching himself, too… but suddenly, he wanted more. He sat up and yanked Richie off of him by tugging the hair on the back of his head, a string of spit still connecting Richie’s lips to the tip of his dick.

“What’s up? I mean, besides you right now.”

Eddie grabbed him under his face on both sides and pulled him up to the bed with him, tasting himself in Richie’s mouth when he slid his tongue through his lips. He rolled Richie around so he was sitting on the bed now, Eddie getting up quickly to pry open the nightstand to pull out a condom and the lube. He looked back over at Richie, who didn’t seem fazed at all, and crawled back next to him, taking Richie’s chin in his free hand.

“How did you want me to fuck you?”

Richie grinned back at him. “You’re asking so nicely.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“Fuck me or ask nicely?”

“Now you’re just being an asshole,” Eddie said before crawling further back onto the bed behind Richie. Richie turned his head and watched him with confusion before Eddie grabbed him around the middle to pull his legs back and shove his chest into the bed, crawling over him to lean into his ear. “Now you don’t get a say in it.”

He felt Richie laugh silently under him. “I don’t get to see your hot bod like this.”

Eddie reached around to grab Richie’s neck and lift his head up, meeting his eye in the mirror across the room. “Better?”

It was a little difficult for Richie to fit this direction of the bed, the top of his torso and arms hanging off a little to make room for the rest of him. But he seemed comfortable enough, sighing contentedly as Eddie made a trail of bites and kissing down his back before finally unwrapping the towel at his waist.

“Hey Rich… I’m going to try something. Don’t freak out.”

“Uh huh,” was all Richie said, likely too horny to care what Eddie was doing as long as he was doing something.

Eddie pulled Richie’s hips upwards in an almost doggy position and wasn’t sure if it was in panic or impatience, but ducked his face straight down between Richie’s legs, spreading his cheeks and started lapping at his hole. He expected to be quietly disgusted and push it away but was again surprised that, thankfully, it tasted like any other bit of skin and he didn’t have hold back any enthusiasm. Richie immediately jerked back and shuddered pleasantly under him.

“Oh, _Jesus,_ I was not expecting that.”

Eddie slapped one of Richie’s ass cheeks. “Quiet.”

“ _How?”_ Richie moaned while Eddie continued to eat him out. His erection was starting to get painful between his legs while wetting Richie up and down, finally breaking to add some lube, using his fingers to make sure Richie was properly prepped. He wasn’t talking much anymore, but kept moaning and whining as Eddie worked his fingers into him, backing his ass up at Eddie’s hand until he finally panted, “Eddie, just fuck me already, _please.”_

He didn’t need to be told twice. He angled Richie’s hips just right, looking up to catch Richie’s eye in the mirror again, seeing his dopey grin looking right back at him. Eddie leaned down briefly to kiss the soft skin of Richie’s waist and went back to focus on the condom… which… nope, other way. “Shit.”

“You good?”

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered, flipping it around so the more lubricated side was outside. “I got it.” He positioned himself, taking Richie’s hips gingerly in his hands. He looked up again, wanting to still see Richie’s face as he pressed himself in. The rim was tighter around the tip of his cock than he expected, and was worried that he pushed too much of himself in when Richie dropped his face down towards the mattress and buried it between his arms.

Eddie paused, reaching out to stroke Richie’s back. “Hey…”

“Don’t… stop.” Richie mumbled.

Eddie took a deep breath in, gripping Richie’s hips tight and thrust again and again and Richie was moaning enthusiastically into the mattress. Eddie was able to control his own noises with his breathing, but entering Richie felt so much smoother than it had been with him, and he wasn’t sure if it was the position or Richie’s longer history of anal stimulation. But the tight ring moving along his cock as he was fucking him was unfuckingbelievably good and only made better by Richie’s moans under him and he started grunting with each thrust. The fact that _he_ was doing this to Richie and making him feel this amazing sent ecstatic waves of pleasure in Eddie’s chest.

“ _Eddie,”_ Richie whined. “I’m getting… so close…”

Eddie wanted to see his face, so he leaned forward, pulling Richie’s head up by his hair, wrapping his other arm around Richie’s chest, hoping Richie’s arms were strong enough to keep them both up. Eddie kept fucking him and panting in his ear while Richie whined and got closer and closer and it was so fucking erotic to watch Richie getting fucked by him across the room through their reflections. Eddie was trying to hold himself off but watching Richie’s come face, his mouth open in a gasp, eyes squeezed tight while his body shuddered under Eddie pushed Eddie over the edge and he finally came in him as Richie’s arms gave out and he fell forward on top of him.

Eddie felt strangely very exhausted, his arms aching as he tried to push himself off of Richie’s back. He had softened up and pulled out to clean up, tossing the condom in the trash bin by the bed.

“Oh, thank god this towel was here,” Richie snickered. “I cum shot on it and now I don’t have to change the sheets.” He threw the towel off, and somehow had the energy to love-tackle Eddie down into the pillows.

“Why was that so exhausting?” Eddie panted, letting Richie wrap him up like a naked burrito.

Richie let out a low, quiet laugh. “Not cut out for topping, eh?”

“You liked it, though.”

“Yeah, cause I like _you_ , silly,” he said, squeezing him tighter. His muscles _really_ hurt, and he wasn’t sure why. He felt Richie’s finger tips under his chin, tilting his head up to look at him, smiling broadly down at Eddie.

“I don’t think we’re doing things right,” Eddie said.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, from what I can gather from books and media, when one person is aggressive, the other person doesn’t giggle like a little bitch. It makes fucking you frustrating.”

Richie let out a hearty laugh. “Because you’re so _cute_ when you’re mean and angry, Eddie. You slap me and tell me what to do and I just get all giddy.” Eddie glared up at him, which made Richie laugh more. “Hey, you spent over a decade showing affection by yelling at me while I cracked jokes back. What did you expect?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he supposed Richie had a point, even if the dynamics were strange. “Speaking of the sex… which did you like better?”

“Don’t care.” Eddie huffed, but Richie just laughed again, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. “If we both lose our dicks tomorrow, I’ll cherish every other inch of your skin for eternity.”

“That’s… sweet and mildly creepy, but thanks you fucking weirdo.”

Eddie was sure he hadn’t been loud, he hadn’t nearly been making as much noise as Richie or when he had been bottoming, but now his throat was feeling raw. They tried taking it easy the rest of the weekend, only exerting themselves to help Maggie bake a pie Sunday evening, but it was on Monday morning when Eddie realized what was wrong.

“Oh no no no no,” he muttered into the pillow, head throbbing and covered in sweat. “Richiiiiiie. I think I’m sick.”

Richie reached up to touch Eddie’s forehead and grimaced. “Shit, Eds. You’re burning up.”

Of course he was sick; because it was now May and sunny and gorgeous and warm and so his body just _had_ to do something stupid like this. Everything felt hot and he could feel every fiber of his muscles aching with every movement, his head as heavy as a cement brick.

“I can’t go to school like this.”

“Why don’t you take Darla to the doctor? I’ll have Bill or Stan pick me up, you can get checked up and see if you need anything from the pharmacy, yeah?”

“You’re sure?” Eddie asked, starting to feel nauseous in a way that was beyond sick.

“You’ve driven her before.”

“Not without you in the car.”

“Hey, I trust you,” he said, pushing Eddie’s sweaty curls out of the way to kiss his forehead. “Ugh, you’re super slimy.”

“Stoooop,” Eddie moaned, shoving Richie away. “You’ll get sick, too.”

“Too late for that, we share a bed.”

Eddie wanted to smile up at Richie, but he thought about going out into town by himself and without more than a half-second warning, he vomited onto his front. The doctor was probably for the best.

Eddie hadn’t even had the energy to get his pants on by the time Richie already helped clean Eddie up and was ready to go to school. Stan was honking from the front, and Richie gave Eddie a kiss on top of his head before heading out. “Please be safe. Just get checked, come home, and get right back into bed, OK? Ma can make you soup and then I’ll come home and treat you like a goddamn prince.”

Eddie nodded, groaning as he leaned down to put on socks. He was unbearably achy all over. It took all his strength not to take any medication, not knowing what his doctor would end up recommending. His brain kept telling him to just stay home, like going to the doctor posed imminent danger… but that was just his brain of trying to convince him to stay in bed, right?

Eddie could sometimes have a temper, he knew this. But when a nurse came up to him while he was still mid-conversation with his doctor and stuck a swab straight up his nasal cavity with no warning, he almost throat punched her.

“What the FUCK, psycho!” he shouted at her as she left without saying a word. He turned back to his doctor, rubbing his irritated nose. “She couldn’t give me a warning?”

“It’s easier if you don’t flinch,” Dr. Davis said. “They always flinch when you tell them.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes, sickened by the fluorescent lights overhead. “I don’t have the flu. It’s May.”

He had the fucking flu. Dr. Davis called in some medication to the pharmacy, another place Eddie had not gone by himself since he lived with his mother. Liv was kind enough to bill him a copay invoice, because he only had enough money to probably pay for the flu medicine now. He parked in front of Mr. Keene’s, nervously staring through the glass window and the windshield, drumming his fingers on Darla’s steering wheel. There wasn’t a reason for him to be nervous, and the absolute abhorrent shitty sickness he felt from the virus was wearing him out. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without collapsing, so he finally bit the bullet and went inside.

“Eddie Kaspbrak,” Mr. Keene said, eyeing him strangely as walked up to the counter. “I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

“Hi, Mr. Keene,” Eddie said politely, despite this psycho knowingly giving him placebos and unnecessary medication for years at his mother’s request. “Dr. Davis called some stuff in.”

“Yes, you sound awful,” he said airily. “I’ll check and see if they’re filled.”

He watched Mr. Keene walk over to the medications, his head pounding so viciously it was like someone put dozens of jackhammers in his head trying to make their way out through his skull.

“Here for your AIDS medication, faggot?”

Eddie sighed, not bothering to look over. “Hi, Greta.”

He heard her pop her chewing gum and the sound was like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

“I guess you’re here for your ass cream, too. I always pictured you as a catcher.”

Eddie finally turned to look at her. “Does it make you that upset?”

Her jaw froze, momentarily stopping her gum chewing while mentally trying to work out what he had asked.

“I mean,” Eddie continued, inspired by what Richie would be saying if he were here now. “I can’t imagine how much it sucks that I wouldn’t want to touch your gross cunt.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, scowling at him. “You think I want your tiny fairy ass?”

“You’re awfully obsessed with what I do with my dick for someone who claims they don’t want it, Greta. You’re just bitter because you’re missing out on this monster cock.”

“Here you are, Eddie,” Mr. Keene said, causing Eddie to jump. He was on the register like he hadn’t caught a word between his and Greta’s conversation.

“Oh – uh, cool. Thanks.” He handed Mr. Keene a $20 bill, the only cash he had on him.

Mr. Keene stared at it. “That’ll be $174.57.”

Eddie’s heart sank. “Wha – how? Last year I paid like $10.”

“You don’t have insurance. So, that’ll be $174.57.”

Sonia. She was still in charge of the insurance and she fucking cut him off now. Eddie felt his heart practically straining to rip through his rib cage, his body heating up in rage and pain as his aching muscles tensed.

“Please, Mr. Keene… can I just open an account and pay it off? Look at me, I’m sick; I _need_ medicine.”

Mr. Keene smiled, which usually made him look creepy, but Eddie felt hopeful… until he spoke. “Maybe, Eddie, if you didn’t open your filthy mouth and speak to my daughter like she’s one of your dirty, whore friends, I might be willing to put you on a payment plan. But alas,” he shrugged. “Here we are.”

Greta giggled behind him and Eddie could feel his blood boil – although that could have also been his fever. “How much is the generic?”

“Don’t carry it.”

Eddie bit his lip and looked around until he saw the payphone. He thrust the $20 back at Mr. Keene. “Can I get change?”

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Keene said with an air of annoyance. “Do I look like a goddamn bank teller to you?”

Eddie was fuming now, and literally sweating gritting his teeth as he stormed back into one of the aisles, trying to tune out the sound of Greta laughing and smacking her stupid fucking gum. He grabbed a 3-pack of Magnum condoms and ran back to the register, slamming it on the counter and shoving the $20 back in his face. “My change?”

Mr. Keene scowled at him, ringing up the condoms and throwing the money on the counter like he might get diseased from accidentally brushing Eddie’s skin. Eddie looked up and saw Greta eyeing the Magnums.

“Yeah, you wish,” he snapped, before scooping up his change and running to the phone.

“Dr. Davis’s office, Olivia speaking.”

“Hi Liv, it’s Eddie again.” His throat was starting to feel like sandpaper. He knew he needed to get home and rest this off.

“Hi, Eddie! Everything OK?”

“How much was my copay this morning?”

“Oh, uh, it should be $20, but let me see… oh… oh, no.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “What is it?”

“Your insurance… well they rejected the claim. They don’t cover you anymore.”

“How much, Liv?”

“Just under $500…”

Fucking Sonia. For someone who claimed to have his best interests in mind and care so much about keeping him healthy, she sure didn’t give a fuck about him getting medicine now.

“Eddie, I’m really sorry… I’d erase the visit and just say you were never here, but they’ve already been billed and you wouldn’t be able to get any medicine…”

“Its fine,” Eddie muttered. “Just… send the bill. Thanks, Liv.”

He hung up, too pissed off to wonder if he had hurt Liv’s feelings by slamming the phone. He rested his hot forehead against the cold glass of the payphone booth, absolutely drained of all energy left. The Tozier’s had done so much for him; how could he possibly ask them to pay for such expenses? No; he would have to tough it up and pay back his doctor somehow. As far as his flu, he’d have to tough it out, something he hadn’t done in his entirely life. Maybe with Richie taking care of him, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Eddie shoved the condoms and change back in his pocket, cursing at the sun as it beat down on him. He wanted to welcome the sun, express his love to the spring time, but instead his overheated body rejected its presence like a pestering insect. He shut the door and leaned back, closing his eyes, wanting nothing more than to drive home and curl up in Richie’s bed, inhale all of Richie and his scents that had blended together in all the fabrics of the pillows and eat some of Maggie’s soup. He opened his eyes, his brain starting to scream at him to get home despite how desperately sleepy his body was feeling. He could see Mr. Keene glaring at him, even while talking on the phone. It made Eddie uncomfortable. He closed his eyes again.

_Wake up!_

He just needed a minute.

_Eddie, go home_.

For fucks sake, just… just a minute. He didn’t even turn the Daewoo on, and the heat in the car became thick, so thick that Eddie could barely feel anything else. His back was sweating against the car seat, his front sweating from the heat of the sun creeping in through the windows. His body was heavy. And then…

Then he moved. Eddie turned his head and expected the harsh, cold press of the window against his temple, but it was soft. His head sunk into it like a marshmallow. His body felt so heavy. There was something… strange about the way he was sitting. After a moment of dazed confusion, Eddie realized it was because, well… he wasn’t sitting. He was laying down, and on something much softer than the car seat.

Eddie realized he somehow must’ve driven himself back home, and he was coming out of some fever dream, having forgotten about it altogether. He reached his arm over, stretching out to the other side of the bed, but his arm hit the wall. Strange. He must have scooted over to Richie’s usual side furthest from the edge. He rolled over, reaching out again and – but the edge was right there? Why was the bed so small?

Eddie opened his eyes. The terror didn’t hit him right away as he stared around his bedroom – _his_ old bedroom from his mother’s house. It took several seconds of his brain adjusting before the panic finally started to sink in. Eddie was still in a phase of delirious illness, but the horror that he had somehow made it into his old bedroom was a reality that he needed to fix _now._

“Shit,” he whispered, getting up slowly, painfully, scooting over to peer through the window. The Daewoo wasn’t there, but Sonia’s car was. How the fuck did this happen? Surely, he must’ve been dreaming then, right?

_No, you need to stop it, Eddie! Get – the hell – OUT!_

Eddie stumbled out of the mattress, suddenly feeling incredibly foreign to him. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had been here. It was nearly empty, and Eddie saw to another jolt of horror that the door was shut. He tip-toed over to the door and gingerly placed his hand on the handle, turning it slowly, but it only went so far before Eddie realized it was locked. From the outside.

“No no no no no,” Eddie muttered, clutching his chest as his breathing started to hitch. This couldn’t be happening. This cannot be fucking happening. With a burst of rage, Eddie threw his fist into the door with as much stress as he could muster, feeling all his knuckles crack – hopefully not breaking – leaving a splintered hole in the door.

“MOM!” Eddie shouted. “LET ME OUT OF THIS GODDAMN HOUSE!”

He stood there fuming, listening intently and heard his mother’s heavy body make her way up the stairs. Every single step made him angrier and angrier, wishing nothing more than to burst through the door and shove her down the stairs.

“Oh, Eddie,” he heard her whine behind the door. It made him sick. It made him – NO, Eddie, you do NOT miss her! This is psychotic; this is not how you take care of someone. “I was so worried when I found you like this.”  
“What the hell did you do?” he shouted back. “Let me the FUCK out.”

“Thank goodness Mr. Keene called me when he did,” she continued through the door. “He said you were acting so strange and then you passed out in that – that boy’s car. You were overheating, and thank goodness he kept an eye on you until I got there and helped me get you out of there and into my car to take you home.”

Eddie looked around for his old clock and finally saw it sitting on his dresser. It was almost 5:00 PM.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispered, shaking his head. “Mom… you can’t _do_ this. You need to let me out. You’re literally locking me up like a prisoner. Mom, they’re going to worry about me. _Richie_ is going to be worried about me!” His voice sounded whiny and begging, but he didn’t care.

“ _Richie?”_ she screeched, her voice harsh. “That animal doesn’t _care_ about you the way I do, Eddie-bear! Look how sick you got just living with them! _I’m_ going to take care of you, the way a mother should!”

“Shut UP!” he shouted, slamming his fist into the door again, hearing her yelp behind the door. “If you gave a SHIT about me, you’d open this goddamn door and let me GO!”

There was silence. Eddie wondered what she was waiting for, and then finally, with a small flutter in his congested chest, he heard what could only be the sound of keys.

“Look,” he heard her say. “We’re going to talk, OK, Eddie? I’m going to bring you downstairs, have some tea and we can talk about it.”

“OK,” Eddie said immediately, prepping himself to shove past her the second that door burst open.

But could he?

Eddie watched the door handle jiggle was Sonia unlocked it from her side. He took a step back, remembering it would swing towards him when she finally opened it. He wanted to run. He wanted to push her down and jump all the way down the stairs and cry for help. But when she opened the door, and saw his mother’s face for the first time in over a month, he froze. They stared at each other for a moment before Eddie finally felt courage enough to speak.

“Hi, mom.” He should hate her. She was a monster. She killed his father. She hated what his dad was, she hated what _he_ was. Why was he offering her such hospitality? Fucking, _hi??_

“Oh, Eddie-bear,” she cooed, reaching an arm out.

“What – ?” Eddie was ready to feel her squeeze his upper arm, but he felt a pinch instead. He looked down, only for his chest to constrict at the sight of her pressing a syringe into his skin. And whatever anger and shock he was supposed to be feeling after became fuzzy, his insides and his thoughts feeling like cotton under his skin.

“Shh,” he heard his mother say, her fat arms reaching around his waist as his legs gave in, his knees bending as his body sank down. “It’s OK.”

Eddie opened his mouth – or thought about opening it – to say something, to shout for help… anything. But his vision blurred just as all of his muscles gave out altogether in his mother’s arms and his head rolled back, his world completely going black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for --
> 
> Well, shit I can't tell you, so just tune in to find out wtf is going on!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens at Sonia's...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know what to say about this chapter without spoilers. But thank you all so much for your kind words, it's so encouraging!
> 
> TW for horrible abusive parenting, 'nuff said.

Eddie was in the sewers. Eddie was small and cold and covered in gray water and clutching his casted arm and he was in the sewers... and he was alone. He was alone, but he wouldn’t let this monster keep him from his life outside these walls. The creature crept towards him, screeching and spitting, and Eddie backed up on instinct as it reached a long talon-like arm at him, grabbing him at the middle before he could get away.

Eddie didn’t much believe in astrology, especially that predicting the future shit. He was a Scorpio, which Beverly always told him meant he was high-strong but caring, vicious in wit but compassionate, intense in passion, and some other bullshit Eddie didn’t really pay attention to because she was trying to explain why he was obsessed with illnesses. But here’s the thing about scorpions: when they’re faced with imminent danger, met with the cruel reality of their own demise, they may sometimes sting themselves to death and go out on their own terms. They are resilient and dangerous and small. And so was Eddie. So when that beast opened its large mouth, Eddie reached his tiny arm in as far as he could, inhaler in hand, and sprayed the liquid right down Its throat.

“Eat battery acid, fucknuts!”

And the thing screeched again in agony, clamping Its jaws in reflex, a painful ripping sensation coursing into Eddie’s shoulder as he fell from Its grip while it stumbled away. His back hit the solid ground, his face grimacing, but he felt triumphant.

“I think I got It, Richie,” Eddie cried into the darkness, hoping somehow it could reach him outside of the walls. “I’m going to see you soon. I think I really got It.” He leaned forward, his front wet and sticky, but he was unable to lift himself. He rolled his head over to see why his broken arm was too weak to push him up, only to be met by nothing but a bloody, leaking stub of a shoulder, the appendage completely gone.

“Richie.” Eddie sobbed. Richie wasn’t here. No one was here. He was on the grounds of hell and bleeding his way to someplace worse; someplace he’d never see Richie again. He lay on his back, sobbing in the damp, cold dark, as the walls began grumbling around him. And then Eddie couldn’t move, and his body was frozen and cold and he wondered if this was the true horror of death, and he was forever trapped in an inescapable corpse forced to be aware of his own rot and decay as rock and pipe fell around and on him, crushing him deeper and deeper into the dirt.

It was so dark now. The dirt felt soft and sunken in, but it was dry. There were noises now. Faint voices in the far distance – no... they were much closer than that, but they were quiet. Not quite whispering, but quiet. Then something sharp, a bell ringing that should’ve made Eddie jump, but his body was unresponsive. He tried desperately to react, to guide his mind to his surroundings, when he heard another voice, loud and hysterical.

“Eddie-bear, is that you?! Oh – I see. Well, let’s just cut the hospitalities you little shit - do not ever call this house again unless you are planning on bringing my Eddie home to me, do you – ”

His mother’s voice became silent before hanging up. Eddie opened his eyes, slowly and deliberately careful, and saw his mother emerging from the kitchen, a smug smile on her face. She was pretending Eddie wasn’t there. She was keeping him a secret while holding him prisoner. His head was still too heavy and painful, but he moved his eyes to look down, seeing that he has been placed on the couch, lying down near the TV, which was set at a low volume.

Eddie could feel that his fever had broken; his body was covered in so much sweat and his skin was clammy and cold. There was just a small blanket on him, one that barely reached his shoulders. Every instinct told him he needed to run, but his body still felt mostly paralyzed. His mother went upstairs, but he couldn’t even get the strength to take advantage of this and run out the front door.

No… he needed to wait. This was a game of chess and he needed to play this right. Deep down somewhere in his brain some level of panic was finally triggered enough to charge Eddie’s body to move, and Eddie mustered some strength to turn his head and saw his mother’s car keys hanging on a hook next to the front door. He’d have to play this out right so he could get to the keys and drive himself to the hospital; god knows what she’s putting in his body, and he didn’t want to wait for her to get him sick enough to send him there herself. There was only one way that was going to work.

Sonia’s footsteps were coming back down the stairs and Eddie let his head collapse back down. As his mother got closer to the couch, he braced himself so he wouldn’t twitch as she knelt down to place the back of her hand on his forehead. He almost had a visceral reaction internally, disgusted by her skin against his own. But this was about survival now, and Eddie reached down deep for whatever ounce of courage he had in him.

“Mom,” he whined. “I’m so cold. Can you get me a blanket?”

“Oh, Eddie,” she cooed, reaching down to stroke his face, her own brightening in delight. It made him want to vomit. “Of course I can, sweetheart.”

Sonia went over to a little chest in the living room where they kept throws and blankets, pulling out a thick fleece to drape over Eddie. He pulled it up to his chin, smiling up at her in a way he hoped was convincing, despite it making him sick to his stomach.

“Thanks, ma.”

“Are you getting hungry, Eddie-bear?”

Eddie nodded feebly, watching his mother shaking her head scathingly. “I can’t imagine what garbage you’ve been putting into your body to get you this sick, sweetie. But not to worry; mommy’s here now and she’s going to get you better.”

“Mom,” Eddie whispered. “Is it too late… to call Pastor Mark? I want to get better. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to lose you.”

Sonia looked like she’d just about cry. “Of course, sweetie. We’ll get you better. You’ll get over this nasty flu, and the church will help you get through this horrific plague in your mind, get you to see right. Then you’ll never have to see that boy again.”

_Fucking bitch_ , Eddie thought. But god, he prayed this wouldn’t take long. He had a strange feeling she wasn’t buying it completely yet, so he needed to stay patient. He was still so oddly unmovable, almost like he was drunk again, and his brain couldn’t string together some thoughts properly, but it was enough for him to concentrate on his endgame. He let his mother bring him food. He let his mother rub his back and stroke his hair, keeping quiet when she complained about how long it was getting. He let her talk about how different things could be now. He even let her speak viciously about Richie, and the longer Eddie laid there, the more it was sinking in that he couldn’t stand this anymore. His thoughts became fuzzy again after finishing some bland soup and he had a horrible feeling that she had put some more debilitating chemicals in there to keep him on the couch, but he didn’t pass out again and was thinking it might be best he couldn’t properly feel angry and snap at her. He had to hang on a little bit longer.

Eddie was laying there and thinking about Richie when he felt something deep from within pulling at him, telling him he needed to get outside in any way possible. He needed to go now.

“Mom,” he heard himself say. “I feel so gross. I’ve been wearing these clothes at Ri – at the Tozier’s house. Can I change into something clean?”

“Would you like me to run you a bath, sweetie?” his mother asked him, messing with some curls that kept stubbornly falling in front of his face.

“Yes, please,” said Eddie. She got up, and Eddie groggily reached over to touch her arm, looking up at her with the most pathetic expression he could muster. “I love you, mama.”

It was difficult to read her expression, but Eddie became nervous that he might’ve pushed it and caused her to become suspicious. She lifted a fat hand to pat the back of his arm and took off towards the bathroom. He waited until she was about halfway up the stairs when he made his first move.

Unfortunately, his initial attempt failed. When Eddie tried to quietly shift his body up to jump off the couch, he rolled over and fell flat on his face on the hard floor. The carpet barely cushioned the blow, but Eddie couldn’t even feel what searing pain he should’ve had in his nose, now dripping blood on the carpet, and it at least dulled the sound and Sonia hopefully didn’t hear the crash from upstairs. Eddie turned his head, mustering all of his strength to lift his body up off the ground. It quite literally took all the strength out of him, and the room spun rapidly around him as he tried to steady himself on his feet. His knees were shaking as he wobbled to the front door, but he could barely feel it. Eddie barely made it halfway when he saw a padlock keeping the door shut until Sonia saw fit to leave. Shit. She seemed to take a page out of Mr. Marsh’s Book of Outstanding Parenting. Eddie would have to go through the back, which creaked too loudly for Sonia not to notice. But he couldn’t wait for another plan; he was done ignoring his instincts, and they all screamed at him to run and do it now.

Eddie stumbled, reaching out to the left of the door for his mother’s car keys, and his body fell forward as he thrust himself out too quickly, slamming up against the wall. He cursed under his breath, pushing himself up again, and pulling her keys off as quickly as he could, turning on his heel and getting a glimpse of his mother staring down at him from the top of the stairs.

“Eddie?” his mother cried, making her way down. “What – what do you think you’re doing?”

Nope. Don’t answer. Eddie tried to go faster, stumbling past the stairs towards the kitchen and he tripped while desperately trying to make his way through the entrance. He skid down on his knees, the blood from his nose spraying out onto the floor, his heart finally picking up some pace in his chest to beat some adrenaline into him as his mother’s footsteps quickened down the stairs. Just as Eddie grabbed hold of the edge of the kitchen table to stand up, he felt one of his mother’s fists balled into the hair on the back of his head, yanking him back. He through an elbow back to knock her off and felt his elbow knock something sharp, hearing something small clatter on the tile floor.

“Get off me you psycho,” Eddie growled, reaching back to claw at her hand gripping his head. He could see her leg in his peripherals trying to drag the syringe over to her, her other arm trying to hold his arms down as he struggled against her.

“ _Eddie,_ ” he heard her wail behind him, and he could hear the wetness from her throat and knew she was crying now. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You have to stay here and get better – ”

“Oh my god, SHUT UP!” Eddie screamed, reeling around and slamming his fist into his mothers face before giving it a second thought. His body was still numbed down and he wasn’t sure how hard he hit her, but it shocked her enough to let go of him and fall back on her ass. Eddie wanted to badly to stand up triumphantly over her, but his legs gave out again and he struggled to get up as his mother stared up at him from the floor, her hand held up to her face where he had punched her. “I’m not – staying here,” he panted between breaths, his voice shaky and not as powerful as he attempted to make it sound. “You are never – ever – going to see me again.”

“Eddie,” she cried, but Eddie cut her off.

“I SAID SHUT UP!” he pointed a wobbly finger at her. “Good fucking BYE, Sonia!”

Eddie could only now hear the pounding of his pulse in his ears, forcing his legs to take him forward towards the back door. Whatever the fuck kind of drugs she was giving him were strong and his muscles felt like lead. He was pretty sure they’d be hurting once he began to get the feelings back. Eddie looked through the doors windowpane towards the back yard expecting to see nothing but darkness. Instead, he saw two bodies throwing themselves over his mom’s fence and spotted the familiar auburn hair of Bill Denbrough and the messy mop that was none other than Richie Tozier.

But something happened as Eddie finally reached for the door. He was not met with relief or elated bliss, but a familiar dread at the pit of his stomach. Just after he saw his hand grip the handle and his eyes met Richie’s, his ears rang with a loud blast and his whole body was thrust into the door. His arm that had reached for the handle was heavy and the rest of his body suddenly drained of all heat as he collapsed back down onto the floor. Eddie’s mind tried desperately to cling onto the thought that Richie was just outside this door, if he could only get up and reach one more time…

Iodoform; Eddie could place that scent anywhere. He had been to the hospital so many times in his life that it was as familiar as coming home to the smell of fresh baked cookies for other kids. The antiseptic smell washed over him and his face contorted in a grimace, wanting to fight it off.

“Oh Jesus fuck Bill, he’s waking up! Get the nurse!”

Richie. Eddie’s eyes shot open, painfully met by the sickly bright hospital lights above him. Eddie briefly saw Bill retreating from the room before he felt a warm hand on the side of his face, gently turning him to look to the left side of the bed where Richie sat leaning over him. The grip Richie had on Eddie’s hand was as tight as his other hand gentle on his face. Eddie blinked a few times trying to get Richie’s face into focus and there it was; beautiful and pale and freckly, but an uncharacteristic pained expression that Eddie hated seeing on him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Hi,” Eddie said stupidly, his voice hoarse. His head was throbbing and his right arm hurt so bad, he could feel all of his muscles spasm under his skin. Eddie kept trying to relax it to no avail, and it was so heavy he couldn’t even lift it. He felt Richie firmly pull his face back to his when he tried to turn it away.

“Hey,” Richie whispered, tired eyes filling up with tears. He looked like he had been crying quite a bit. “Holy fuck, Eds. I was worried I lost you for a minute.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Eddie grumbled, leaning his face into Richie’s palm to kiss him gently there. “How the hell did I get here?”

“We brought you here after – ” Richie paused, eyes darting quickly to Eddie’s arm and back. “God, Eds, don’t be mad, but I had to knock your mom out to get you out safely. We had to wrestle the shotgun out of her grip while trying _not_ to get shot and I ended up slamming the butt of it into her head really hard, and then – ”

“Wait, wait,” Eddie interrupted, catching what he said. “What _gun?_ ”

Richie’s eyes frantically darted to Eddie’s arm again and back, looking terrified. “Eddie… she _shot_ you. In the… in the shoulder; trying to get you not to escape.”

“Are you – she – _what?_ ” Eddie immediately tried to turn his head to assess the damage, but Richie reached up and gripped both sides of his face firmly.

“Eddie, look at me – ”

“Richie, let _go_ ,” Eddie grumbled, trying to push Richie off, but his arm was still too heavy and too painful to lift. “I’ve practically seen Ben’s guts; I can handle a shoulder wound.” Richie’s hands twitched and Eddie saw a tear slip down his cheek before finally releasing Eddie’s face. Eddie huffed and took a look over at his arm. His insides immediately wretched and he could feel tingly ice cold feeling over all of his skin.

“Eds…”

“Richie,” Eddie said sternly. “Where… this isn’t funny…”

“Eddie… your shoulder was so mangled; there wasn’t anything they could do when you got here…”

“Richie,” Eddie sobbed, feeling his face get hot, his vision blurring from the tears building quickly in his eyes. “Where… _where is my fucking arm?”_

This had to be an illusion. His eyes were playing tricks on him. Eddie could _feel_ his arm there; the sensation was so powerful it was like he was clenching every muscle down from the finger tips all the way up to…

His shoulder. It was all bandaged up, and Eddie reached over with his left arm, gingerly touching the bandages and gauze covering where it looked like an animal had bit it off in a large chunk. Eddie was only vaguely aware of Richie behind him, a hand on his good shoulder, whispering comfortingly behind him. But Eddie couldn’t articulate any comprehensible thoughts, only able to sob and blubber and cry and paw at the heavy, empty space on the bed that should’ve been filled with a part of him. Something caught his attention in his peripherals, and he looked up to see a young nurse quickly injecting something in an IV above him.

“What did you _do_?” Eddie sobbed up at her. He immediately felt the effects of the sedative, his heart beat slowing down, but he could not stop crying.

“Eddie,” Richie said again, his own face wet with tears. “They tried everything, they really did. But it was just hanging off in strings of meat like a butcher – ”

“Beep beep, Richie!” Bill hissed as Eddie sobbed harder. “Choice of words, f-f-for fucks sake!”

“Sorry,” Richie muttered apologetically, wiping some snot from his face with the back of his sleeve. “Miss, uh, Veronica, ma’am?”

“Hi, Eddie,” the nurse said softly, placing a hand on Eddie’s chest near his bandages. “You’ve been quite the trooper. You managed to fight through the flu all night, all while getting surgery.”

Eddie took a few big gulps, looking up at her with eyes that continued to leak. “What’s going to happen to me?” he asked in a desperate voice.

Veronica smiled at him and gave him a gentle pat. “Nothing is going to happen _to_ you. But you’re going to have to make some pretty big adjustments going forward. The first step will be for you to rest. Once we get you healed up, we can get you started on physical therapy.”

“How does that work?” Richie voiced beside Eddie.

“In short… we’re going to train you to be a lefty.”

Eddie felt his lip quiver and his voice broke as he spoke. “How… how am I supposed to – to _do_ anything with – with _this_?” His shoulder twitched painfully as he attempted to raise his missing arm in a gesture. “I don’t even have insurance; I can’t _pay_ for all of this…”

“Our social worker Eve applied to Medicaid for you when you got in,” Veronica said, offering an encourage smile. “It’s dated from when you entered, so once you’re approved – which you will be based on your circumstances – you’ll be covered for the entirety of the visit and you won’t have to worry about it. And as far as the therapy goes, you’d be surprised. You’ve got quite the track record. It seems like you can get through just about anything.”

“He’s fought the devil and lived,” Richie said proudly. “Both times with only one good arm.” Eddie knew Richie was referring to Pennywise and wondered how Veronica would interpret that.

“Well, _speaking_ of the devil,” she said, her face contorting with disgust. “She’ll likely be transferred to the Penobscot County Sheriff. There’s no way she’s going to get away with _this._ ”

Mom. Eddie looked over at his shoulder again and felt a deep, searing pain in his chest. He wished it would stop hurting him so much, he _knew_ how bad she was, but his heart still ached in shock and anger at what his mother had done to him now. His life was never going to be normal again, and now he had this very visible disability that would make people look at him the way he felt his whole life; sick, delicate, pathetic. His body automatically tried to pull his missing arm up to hide his face in his hand, and he couldn’t even do that, and instead he doubled over in the bed, pulling his legs up to sob into them.

“Can we have a minute?” Richie asked.

“Of course, I’ll just let the doctor know he’s up…”

Eddie felt Richie’s weight on the bed as he curled up onto it, wrapping his arms very carefully around Eddie, and Eddie automatically leaned over into him. Eddie thought about long drives Richie let him take Darla in with him, his hand on the wheel with his other arm out the window, their hands held between them as they strolled the outskirts of Derry, and then Richie squeezed an arm around his waist tight, the other reaching up to pat Eddie’s head affectionately while he cried into Richie’s chest and he realized he’d never wrap his arms around Richie like that again...

The room was quiet, and he was sure Bill had left the room, too. His sobbing had quieted down and he felt exhausted, letting himself tuck into Richie’s chest, albeit a little awkwardly, unsure how to lean his body, but Richie helped angle him comfortably against him.  
“What am I going to do?” Eddie said, sniffling.

“You’re going to let me go Florence Nightingale on that cute butt of yours. Then you’re going to rock the shit out of this one-armed man thing until I buy you a Robocop arm.”

“Richie…”

Richie squeezed him tighter. “Eddie, you’re one of the bravest and strongest dudes I’ve ever met. You’re going to get through this, I promise.”

Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s shirt. “How are you going to look at me the same now? How are you going to get turned on or even look at me all fucked up like this?”

Richie lifted Eddie’s chin up firmly to look back up at him, his face stern and serious. “Eddie, that is the stupidest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

“Rich,” Eddie started, but he felt Richie’s other hand cover his mouth to pacify him.

“Eddie, I love you more than anything, and you’re always going to be the most beautiful thing I’ve laid eyes on. Now shut up and stop saying dumb things.”

He took his hand off Eddie’s mouth, but Eddie still looked at him with uncertainty. For now, and for Richie’s sake, he’d save that conversation for another time.

“My mom’s really gonna go away for good, isn’t she?” Eddie whispered.

Richie frowned down at him; Eddie knew he was probably holding so many thoughts back for Eddie’s sake. “Probably.”

Eddie nodded, sighing as Richie let him rest his head back on his chest. He wanted to sleep off the aching that crept back in his chest that hurt more than any other part of him did. For now, at least, he’d save that conversation for another time as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, this was so sad y'all.
> 
> But at least I didn't let Eddie bleed to death alone in the sewers while the love of his life was dragged away or anything. js.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie adjusts to his new situation - but it's always easier with Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, thank you so much for your feedback and kudos. I hope you are all being super safe out there. I hope a little boy-love brightens your day.

Eddie didn’t walk for his graduation, having had been terrified of people staring at him on stage and dealing with all the social anxiety that came with the event. The only reason he was even graduating at all is thanks to his friends bringing his school work into the hospital, Bill volunteering to write for him while he practiced the alphabet with his left hand with a therapist. Eddie did not prove himself to be very patient in therapy, snapping several pencils before his nurse brought him a jumbo sized Ninja Turtles pen with a strained smile, asking him very politely not to take his frustrations out on the turtles. Richie stayed back with him the afternoon of the ceremony, which caused an argument between him and his parents about the importance of graduating.

“I _am_ graduating, I’m just not going to the stupid ceremony!” Richie argued. “They don’t even give you the real diploma on stage.”

After some frustration and tears, Maggie and Wentworth finally gave in.

“Well, I’m just going to have to throw a party,” Maggie had said, sniffling. “Eddie, what kind of cake do you think you’ll want?”

“Mrs. Tozier, you don’t have to – ”

“For the love of god, Eddie, let me get you a goddamn cake!”

“Chocolate,” Eddie squeaked immediately, watching her burst into tears already. Richie rolled his eyes and rubbed her back.

“Mom, a little party would be great. We all hate our school anyway, we don’t want to go back and say goodbye to a bunch of assholes that used to beat us up.”

“Attending graduation is _normal_ , Richie,” she cried. “Eddie needs some sense of normalcy for gods’ sake.”

Eddie opened his mouth to let her know it was all right, and he really would rather not go anyway, but Richie raised a hand to silence him, bringing his mom into a hug, mouthing “ _I got this,”_ to him.

Instead of going to the ceremony, they helped Maggie prep for a little party. Richie was helping Eddie figure out how to crack an egg single-handedly and ended up wasting half a carton trying to make a quiche.

“Maybe you should set up the balloons,” Richie said ruefully as Eddie burst another egg all over himself.

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that, Richie?” Eddie snapped back, making Richie cringe.

He was trying, _really_ trying not to be so hot-headed and mean, and he knew he was getting slack because no one wanted to be mad at the kid that got his arm shot off, but he wished someone would smack him until finally Stan did just that.

“Can you stop being a little shit?” he yelled as he smacked Eddie over the head days later, who had just yelled at Ben. “He’s leaving for Chicago in 4 days and you’re being an asshole!”

And that was exactly what Eddie needed, and a little normalcy came back into the group as the tension eased. Eddie still struggled and had some rough nights when he’d lay awake and feel sorry for himself, crying silently until Richie noticed at some point and wrapped him up in a careful hug, still taking it easy while Eddie’s shoulder healed. And Richie was still cracking jokes and always bringing levity when he helped Eddie clean and rewrap his dressings until he didn’t need those anymore, even while Eddie had a hard time looking at him for quite some time while Richie did this, embarrassed and ashamed that he still needed someone to take care of him. But the more Richie made stupid jokes and took advantage of Eddie’s missing arm by tickling his defenseless ribs and forced the laughter out of Eddie, the more he was becoming OK with it, even if it still remained difficult to adjust to. Sometimes it would even ache and itch in the empty space he felt the ghost of his arm, and he’d absentmindedly reach over the scratch at the air; it freaked him out a bit.

But one of the hardest things for Eddie was facing his mother. As much as he wanted Richie by his side, he didn’t trust him not to flip out on her, so he brought Bill in during the several visits he made with Stan’s uncle, Micah, who was kind enough to represent Eddie pro bono. His mother wept and wailed, but having Bill there gave him strength and he refused to let her sway him.

“If you don’t plead guilty, you will never see me again. No visits, no calls. You got away with what you did with dad, but you are not getting away with this. Do you understand?”

What he didn’t tell Sonia, however, was that he wasn’t going to see her if she pled guilty, either. All he needed was a quick trial and then he was done. By the time she got out, he’d be done with college and buried deep in the concrete jungle of New York City where she’d never find him. And once she was convicted, he came in one last time to let her know it was goodbye; because even the hope of seeing him again seemed too kind.

“Just so you know,” Eddie had said before turning away, looking at his mother’s tearful face for the last time in his life. “The only reason I’m glad you’re alive is so you can rot in there knowing it’s your own fault. I want you to spend every waking moment knowing what it felt like to be a prisoner. That’s all you deserve.”

And even though he meant it, it tore him up inside, and he managed to keep it together while Bill took him home, until he collapsed on the couch at home and broke down in front of Richie’s family. Because maybe, Eddie thought, he could try to forgive her and see her again one day. But he never would, and his family helped him see that it was OK.

“Forgiveness doesn’t have to be reserved for people that shoot their sons,” Wentworth said dryly.

Eddie was so grateful for his new family.

It was July now and Eddie sat between Bill and Stan in a dark-wooded waiting room, which was really a living room with uncomfortable waiting room chairs, rubbing his feet back and forth on the old, ugly shag carpet. He hated people had offices in their homes and always found it weird when they let so many strangers know where they lived. Stan was whistling a Beethoven piece while Bill played with the useless sleeve of Eddie’s shirt that draped over the armrest between him and Eddie. Eddie let out a dramatic sigh, shifting in his chair and slipping down a little bit; he still wasn’t used to not having his arm to catch him.

“I don’t want to do this,” Eddie sighed. “I want to be done with all this legal bullshit.”

“He said it was good news,” Stan said. “Maybe you’re getting the house?”

“I don’t want that house,” Eddie grumbled. Thinking about the pictures the police showed up of all his blood splattered in the kitchen made him sick.

“You c-could sell it,” Bill offered.

“I told you, I don’t want to deal with this shit anymore. Besides, I’m pretty sure my Aunt Shirley is getting it. She can do whatever the fuck she wants with it. Stan, are you sure your uncle isn’t just trying to con me into paying him?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“I’m just saying he’s kind of stingy.”

“You’ve almost met your sympathy quota for Jew jokes before I start making cripple ones.”

“Richie makes them _constantly_.”

Stan sighed. “That’s different. That’s Richie.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie said, but he knew exactly what Stan meant, even if neither of them could explain it.

“Why couldn’t R-Richie come?” Bill asked.

“Errands or some shit. I don’t know.”

“Suspicious,” muttered Stan. Eddie agreed, and was slightly annoyed that Richie didn’t come see the lawyer with him.

“H-how’s it been with him, anyway?” Bill asked.

“Good,” Eddie said simply.

“How’s it been in bed with the arm?” Stan asked, smirking.

“Well, I like sleeping on my right side so it’s kind of a bitch.”

“That’s not – ”

“I fucking know what you fucking meant, Stan.” Bill chuckled next to him and Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve exactly been in the mood to do anything.”

“The b-blockage is m-making you grumpy.”

“Fuck off, Bill.” Eddie’s mind suddenly thought of a thousand things Richie could be complaining about with them in his absence. “Did he say something? He probably hates me. I hate this.”

“Nah,” said Stan. “Richie would’ve vowed celibacy if you two never dated. Don’t be so hard on yourself. He’s surprisingly patient.”

“I guess,” said Eddie, feeling himself blush.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, he still talks about you like the sun shines out of your ass.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that and was additionally relieved when the door to Stan’s uncle’s office opened.

“Kaspbrak?”

“You guys coming?” Eddie asked them, getting up.

“Of course,” Bill said, he and Stan following Eddie in.

“I’m not going to get billed for this, am I?” Eddie half-joked, sitting down in front of Micah.

“No, no,” Micah said, brushing Eddie off.

“Well, he charges an arm and a leg,” Stan snickered. “It seems he negotiated.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose while Bill shook his head.

“Actually, it’s about a phone call I got,” Micah continued, sitting down. “Do you have any idea who might’ve called the police with suspicions that your mother was involved in your father’s death?”

Eddie looked up immediately and felt both Bill and Stan look at him curiously. Charlie. “No,” he lied.

“Well, apparently, someone did just that; didn’t give a name. He said he recognized your mother in the newspaper when he read the story and asked if the police could investigate her involvement with Frank Kaspbrak’s death in 1982.”

“And?” Eddie asked, feeling his heart pounding.

Micah threw a hand up, shrugging. “I don’t know what’s going to come of it, honestly. We sent subpoenas out, we’re looking into it. But we did find _something_ interesting. Frank had apparently sold his parents property in the 70’s. Most of it went into purchasing a home a few years later, but a chunk went into an account that was to be appointed to _you._ ”

“Wait, really? Why am I just hearing this now?” He should’ve guessed before Micah even answered.

“I guess your mother failed to tell you. She also made several attempts to access it, but Frank had already made arrangements a couple years before his death that it could only be opened by _you_ once you graduated high school.”

“How much exactly are we talking?” Stan asked. Eddie kicked his foot.

“Now, hold up,” Micah said, raising a hand. “Before I tell you anything, let me give you some legal advice that I _strongly_ suggest following.”

“Uh, OK,” Eddie said.

“First of all, you’re 18, which automatically makes you dumb as shit. I’m just saying,” he added when Eddie scowled. “You also have to follow very strict guidelines on Medicaid, so if they know you have this money, there goes your health insurance.”

“I can just pay for health insurance, though, right?” Eddie asked, and Micah looked flustered.

“No, trust me. You’ll pay for an insurance, just to pay premiums and copays and medical bills, it’s not worth it. Stay. On. The Medicaid. Especially with all the extra medical bullshit you’ll have to deal with now with,” he gestured to Eddie’s empty shoulder. “You can worry about that insurance when you get older, get a career. For now, you’ll get food stamps. This money isn’t going to last you. The bright side is that the government can’t see a trust account, which we can set up. It’s like a blanketed bank account, but you can’t pull money from it like an ATM.”

“So – ”

“I’m getting there. You set up the trust to pay your bills directly; rent, electric, tuition, whatever. If you need to, get a part time job to cover stuff like the movies and clothes. But you’re not going to be withdrawing any out, and you’re not going to report it to social services as income, got it?”

“Got it,” Stan said for him. “How much?”

Micah opened up a file on his desk. “After taxes taken and everything… you’ve got just over 300 grand.”

“Holy _shit,_ ” Eddie gasped, gripping his chair, his heart doing a somersault in his chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Oh my god, you are _so_ paying our rent!” Stan laughed.

“He c-can pay _all_ our rents, Jesus,” Bill said, shaking his head.

“Bullshit I am.”

“Hey, you heard my uncle. You pay the bills. Richie and I will buy you shit so you never have to work, how is that not a fair deal?”

Eddie suddenly had an idea. He turned to Micah. “Could I make just _one_ withdrawal?”

After dropping Bill off, Stanley finally pulled up to the Tozier house, where only Richie’s Daewoo stood in the driveway.

“Thanks for everything, Stan,” said Eddie, patting the fanny pack that hid his recent purchase. “I hope Richie wasn’t too annoyed when you called and said we’d be late.”

“He had time to kill.” Stan looked down at the bag on Eddie’s hip and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re wearing one of those again.”

“It’s mostly to amuse Richie. Plus, he won’t find it in my pocket.”

“Fair enough.” Stan smirked and shook his head again. “I can’t with you two.”

“Think he’ll like it?”

“Absolutely.”

Eddie felt Stanley watching him get out of the car, making sure he didn’t stumble over while one-handing the door open and closed, before they waved each other goodbye. When Eddie entered the house, he was met with a shockingly sweet and delicious smell from the kitchen. The second Eddie closed the door, Richie slid into view like a scene from Risky Business, face lit up and arms wide open.

“EDS!” His eyes immediately went to the fanny pack and he started laughing. “Thus mine eyes deceive me? Is the fanny pack back from the dead?”

“It’s… temporary…” Eddie said slowly, looking intently at Richie’s shirt. “Richie… what the _hell_ is that?”

“You like it?” Richie exclaimed proudly, pulling it down for Eddie to read properly. “I got it in Bangor today.” It was a white t-shirt that read in bright rainbow coloring:

‘My Boyfriend:

Personality 11/10

Looks 11/10

Arms 1/2’

“But… but why?” Eddie stammered, feeling a strange bubble of hysterical laughter building in his chest that he didn’t want spilling out because of just how _stupid_ and just how _Richie_ it was.

“They had a deal. Make a shirt, get 2 free. Here,” he grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “Sit. I made food.”

Richie busied himself making plates with whatever food that was creating the amazing aroma while Eddie pulled at the t-shirts sitting on the table to take a look. One of them had the one-armed Black Knight from Monty Python that Eddie was actually very fond of; it was the first movie Richie had ever shown him at his house together when they were kids.

“You don’t have to, but I thought maybe you could wear one out to date night,” Richie said, pushing a plate full of colorful and delicious looking food in front of Eddie and sitting adjacent from him at the table.

“Date night?”

“Yup. First dinner, then a movie, then a stroll through the park. One last dull, boring night in Derry before we back up. Dad took mom out and I think Penny is out somewhere with her friends until late.”

“You really want to go out?” Eddie asked nervously. Besides the jail and his friends’ houses, he hadn’t properly been out since before the hospital. “People are going to stare.”

“Only because of how cute cute _cute_ you are, Eddie my love,” Richie gushed, pinching his cheek reminiscently.

“Cut it out,” Eddie chuckled, pushing him away. “I can’t fight you off and eat at the same time.”

He stabbed his food with his fork clumsily and gestured to the other shirt on the table. “What’s the other one say? Oh fuck, this is really good.”

Richie snickered. “Yeah, it’s a honey and soy sauce I just made up. How’s this one?” He lifted the other shirt, a red one that read ‘Arm Story: $10.’ That was definitely the one he’d be wearing.

Everything on the plate was delicious, but Eddie was finding it hard to eat with a nervous energy building inside of him. He was trying to focus on Richie as he spoke, but could only think of the thing that had been on the back of his mind since his conversation with Bill and Stan earlier that day.

“Hey, Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“How much time do you think we have before we have to go to the Aladdin?”

Richie swallowed his last bite, setting his fork down gently. “We have… some time.”

Eddie nodded, trying to swallow down his nerves, and failing. “Do you… want to go upstairs for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Richie said quickly. “I mean, sure. If you’d like.”

“I would,” replied Eddie, giving Richie a small smile. He pushed himself up before taking Richie’s hand, disregarding whatever mess they left on the kitchen table for now. And once Richie gently closed the bedroom door, and Eddie pulled his face down by the collar to give him the first proper, sensual kiss they shared in 2 months. It sent chills down his spine like the first time they ever did this right here in the bedroom, and Richie’s arms wrapped around his waist while he backed up towards the bed. Eddie felt Richie’s body lean down as he sat on the bed, helping pull Eddie onto his lap, his arms tightening securely around him. Eddie let his one free hand slide up and lace into Richie’s hair, finally feeling his anxiety settle down as warmth filled him up, feeling so happy and safe in this moment. He had never felt Richie be so careful with him in such a way that still felt charged, their mouths moving steadily together, Richie moving a hand up and pressing his thumb into Eddie’s jaw, encouraging to open up to him more. Eddie carefully moved his arm to Richie chest to gently press him back down onto the bed, but he felt himself shake unsteadily trying to hover over Richie like this. He pulled back and looked down at him uncertainly.

“Maybe you should be on top for now,” Eddie whispered shakily.

Richie squeezed Eddie’s thighs comfortingly, smiling softly up at him. “Whatever you want to do, Eds. Just tell me.”

Eddie nodded decisively. “Yes, please.”

Richie leaned up, but before adjusting their position, he slide his hands under Eddie’s shirt to help pull it off, and Eddie felt a jolt of electricity all over his skin. It was definitely the first time Richie took his shirt off for anything besides medical assistance since the hospital and Eddie felt subconscious about his shoulder being bared, despite the wound being closed and healing up. But Richie grazed his fingers gently across both his shoulders, down his arm on one side, down the sensitive skin on the other and it was a wild sensation being touched there so sensually for the first time ever, but Richie wasn’t hesitant, kissing Eddie across his chest gently.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against Eddie’s neck, and Eddie felt himself gasp and grip onto Richie’s neck tightly while Richie flipped him over onto his back against the bed.

They were kissing fiercely now, and despite all of his shame and discomfort over these last couple of months, Eddie really felt what Richie had said and knew how sincerely he meant it. He tried his best to not be completely useless, awkwardly undoing their jeans one at a time before Richie helped shimmy them off. They were down to their briefs when Richie pressed himself firmly against him, Eddie pulling his face in with a tight grip in his hair, where his hand always kept gravitating to. Richie briefly pulled away, reaching a hand up to stroked Eddie’s face.

“Do we want a condom?” he asked.

Eddie shook his head. “No, not today. I just want this,” he said, pulling Richie’s hips into his with his legs. Is that OK?”

“Everything with you is OK, Eddie. How many times I gotta keep reminding you?” he asked, smirking slightly.

“Always. It’s good to hear.”

Richie brushed some of Eddie’s hair back. “I love you; more than anything. _Everything_ with you is the best thing.”

Eddie smiled back up at him before lifting his head up to Richie into another kiss, and eventually they slid out of their boxers just to feel each other like this and it almost felt like fucking, but they were both enjoying the same sensations together, and Eddie felt himself getting hotter and harder while they grinded against each other, panting and moaning. Richie gripped a hand around Eddie’s hip to grind down harder, pulling his face away so he could stare down at Eddie while their chests heaved against each other. Eddie wanted to feel self-conscious again with Richie looking down at him so directly, feeling his eyes try to flutter closed and turning his face, but he felt Richie’s other hand pull his chin towards him and cup his cheek, holding his face still. Soon, Eddie’s moans became little whines as he was starting to reach his climax and he watched Richie’s lips curl him into a kind of smile watching Eddie and Eddie couldn’t help but actually smile and almost _giggle_ back when he was finally coming, feeling so goddamn fucking _happy_ and whole that he couldn’t help himself. He tugged at Richie’s hair as his back arched up and Richie pressed his forehead into his, his face twisting up as he finally came against Eddie’s sensitive body.

Eddie didn’t even care about the mess between their bodies as he squeezed Richie close, feeling every inch of Richie over every inch of him while he took the moment in. He could probably almost cry right then and there with how happy he was, but he managed to keep his cool for the time being, not wanting to spoil the date night Richie planned.

Eddie wore the stupid shirt Richie got him. He didn’t even notice the strange looks the people of Derry gave them. They let themselves hold hands walking into town, and Eddie didn’t even pay attention to the movie they were watching, despite Richie picking the one with Tom Hanks because he knew Eddie had a crush on him, because they were too busy making out like dumb, young boys in love at the back of a movie theater and spilling their popcorn. They let themselves play a round of Street Fighter, and Eddie wasn’t even mad when Richie let him win, despite having to play with one hand shifting between the game pads back and forth. Eddie wasn’t even bummed out while they walked across the kissing bridge, because even though he preferred walking on Richie’s left, Richie just pulled him in close and hung his lanky arm around him and it was perfect.

“Tell me we’re finally going to make out on the kissing bridge after all these years?” Eddie asked when Richie stopped short.

“I actually wanted to show you something,” Richie said, turning Eddie to look at all the names and initials carved into the wood. “You remember the summer with… well, right after you broke your arm and we all kind of split for a bit?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, one of those days when I was by myself… I came here. Then I carved this.” Richie pointed down at a part of the bridge where it read the initials R + E. Eddie felt his cheeks turn up into a smile.

“God, I barely even understood my own feelings back then,” he said, leaning down to admire 13-year-old Richie’s handiwork.

“It was right after Bower’s chased me out of the arcade. I just… I needed it to feel OK, how I was feeling, you know?”

Eddie nodded and turned back to Richie. “You still carry your pocket knife?”

Richie reached into his pocket and pulled it out, Eddie taking it carefully before searching for a spot on the bridge. He bent down and ungracefully carved the letter R and drew a wonky heart around it, looking very discombobulated on the right side where he was angling his arm awkwardly. He stood back up to hand Richie his knife back. “Now we’re even.”

“Sweet,” Richie said, grinning. “Now we’ve both officially left our marks in this shithole town.”

Eddie took a deep breath in, adjusting his fanny pack. It was probably soon time to break the news to Richie that he was kind of loaded. “Hey, Richie…”

“Yes, my love?”

Eddie had to sigh again to steady himself, unzipping his fanny pack and pulling a little box out from it, nervous energy bubbling up inside of him again. “I just… I know we haven’t exactly been _dating,_ like actually dating long. But,” oh, god, don’t vomit, Eddie. “I just love you so much and I think I always have. And I know we both want to spend the rest of our lives together. And I know we can’t exactly get married or anything – ”

Eddie had barely opened the ring box before he yelped as Richie scooped him up around his thighs, lifting Eddie up high and spinning him around while he tried hugging onto Richie’s head and clinging onto the box at the same time.

“RICHIE, JESUS – ” Eddie laughed while Richie spun him.

“EDDIE SPAGHETTI, LOVE OF MY LIFE, I AM THE HAPPIEST MAN IN THE WORLD!”

“Rich, PLEASE!” Eddie squeezed Richie’s head tighter so he’d at least slow down. He finally balanced himself enough to look down at Richie, who was grinning wider than Eddie had ever seen him. “I’m going to take that as a yes?” Eddie asked, still giggling.

“It always was, Eds,” Richie said brightly, letting Eddie slide down in his arms a little to kiss him. It was difficult to keep kissing while they both were smiling like idiots, and Eddie leaned back to look at Richie again.

“I love you so much, Richie.”

“I love you too, future Mr. Tozier.”

Eddie stopped smiling. “OK, we’re _definitely_ going to have to talk about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is almost the end, guys. I hope you liked this. Happy Weekend <3


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! There is now a part TWO to this (yay for quarantine free time I guess?) which is an extension of this Epilogue of sorts. The epilogue is mainly fluff and happiness, but if you're reading this for the first time and want to head into that first, or are returning and care to read part two FOR MORE LOVELY ANGST, here's the link:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440399/chapters/56184931
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who left kudos and comments, you fuel me and make me feel blessed! Take care all!

Eddie Kaspbrak belonged in New York City. It was made clear to him the second they crossed the bridge into Manhattan when Eddie got into his first road rage screaming match that these were just his people. This chaotic, crazy, fast paced jungle just radiated the kind of energy Eddie thrived in. Once he stepped foot here, everywhere else was just too fucking slow.

Eddie would love the small scattered green parks around the city. He’d love all the villages and hole-in-the-wall food places Richie would find late after his stand up sets just to never remember where they were again because there were a million other places to explore. Eddie loved that there were so many people, no one stared at him. Eddie loved that he never had to yell at the same assholes twice because there were so many that lived here he’d forget their faces in a heartbeat. Eddie would love flipping people off so much with his prosthetics that his first good one got stuck with its middle finger up for about a week.

Eddie did not love the time an asshole threw change in his coffee thinking Eddie was a homeless amputee. He did kind of like throwing his coffee on him, though.

Eddie loved listening to Richie on the radio station he worked at when he should’ve been sleeping or studying for finals or going to work. Work. Eddie would love his job. He loved how much he had to work out in his head, how much he had to assess and calculate, how much he could rely on his instincts, and how often he got to yell at people for being idiots. He also really loved how many strangers thought Richie was funny, so much so that he worked his way out of shady dive-bars and onto recorded stages and late night talk shows. Eddie would love his and Richie’s forever-home in Greenwich just as he had loved their first place with Stanley.

Stanley; it was a little unnerving how wild _Stanley_ was in bed, and the only reason Eddie knew this, because he really wasn’t aching to know this, was because his and Richie’s first bedroom in their first apartment shared a wall with Stan’s. It was almost, _almost_ tolerable until senior year when Stan met Patty, and then it just became weird when he and Richie kept trying to one-up each other. The first night it happened, Eddie buried his face into the pillow in frustration while Richie very loudly fucked him and he was pretty sure Stan was literally pounding the other side of the wall.

“Eddie,” Richie panted from behind him as they could hear Patty coming from the next room. “I could use a little more enthusiasm out of you; we can’t let the straights win.”

“Guess which one of us can give their partner multiple orgasms, fucker?”

“He’s got a point, you know,” Eddie muttered.

“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, BITCH!”

“Wait, _what?_ ” Eddie had yelped, bracing himself as Richie gripped his hips tighter.

Eddie and Patty eventually had to give them an intervention. Eddie and Patty also became so close that they almost had their significant other aimed eye rolls synchronized within a year. Not many people really understood the sarcasm Olympics Stan and Richie played with their friendship. Patty’s parents openly complained that the Best Man at their wedding did not seem to take anything seriously, and it took until Stanley had his first born son for Richie to show real emotion in public and shed tears over their relationship. One would think Richie was holding his own son by the way he hid his face and cried while holding Wyatt Richard Uris for the first time.

“You stupid fucking sap,” he sobbed into Stan’s shoulder as he sat beside him grinning in the hospital.

Eddie made fun of this just about every Skype session and visit with Stan in Georgia until he had a similar reaction when Bill appointed him godfather of his and Audra’s daughter, Darcy. They agreed to stop speaking about both incidents.

Eddie loved his family. Eddie knew that his real family was these people he’d known and bonded with since he was a child in Derry and no blood needed to be share between them to know it was real. He would love watching it grow. He loved watching Stanley and Bill become fathers; Stanley to Wyatt and Esther; Bill to Darcy, George, and Luke. Eddie loved watching Bev and Ben grow their businesses and travel the world. Eddie really loved the look on Richie’s face when he found out Mike and his sister Penelope started dating. He would love it even more when he saw Richie cry at their wedding. Eddie would sometimes love visiting Mike and Bill in California, even if it meant he couldn’t get decent Chinese. Eddie loved that he didn’t feel too crazy talking to his dad sometimes when he had a coworker that could see his dad too. But Eddie really loved watching his family grow and make beautiful, happy lives out of parts of themselves that they loved.

Eddie did not love the endings of Bill’s books. Sorry, bud.

Eddie really loved people watching. He’d find other gay people and gay couples and learn that bisexual people existed, and so did pan and ace and even _gender_ wasn’t what Eddie thought it was, and he’d meet people who had transitioned or wanted to transition, or people that weren’t even binary, and it was all kind of beautiful how _unboring_ people really were with open eyes. He loved how often he could hold Richie’s hand in public without fear of being mauled. Eddie loved that even when he was scared, Richie made him feel safe, and he had a home to go to where he never had to be afraid of anything. Eddie would really love seeing how far from alone he was when he went to his first Pride Parade. He loved the year Richie painted Eddie’s entire body the rainbow and lifted him on his shoulders. Eddie loved that he could kiss Richie openly just about anywhere and no one would say anything.

Eddie didn’t love when someone called them faggots on the subway when Richie kissed his cheek; but he got to punch that guy in the face with his first metal prosthetic and Richie practically swooned.

Of course, Eddie loved Richie. Eddie loved that Richie referred to him as his husband before it was even technically true. Eddie would love how quickly Stan was to ordain himself to officiate their wedding when same-sex marriage legalized in New York. Eddie thought he’d never love anyone as much as he loved Richie. Eddie thought no one would love him more than Richie. He thought Richie would never love anyone more than he loved Eddie. Most importantly, Eddie never thought he’d ever love a girl in his life. Then he met their daughter, Christina, and his heart grew to encompass the overwhelming amount of love he had for Richie and her both.

And Eddie loved everything about that.

Eddie loved sitting on the windowsill on a rainy night while Christina slept on his chest. Eddie loved how Richie would somehow sit still while she would paint his finger nails. He loved how her classmates referred to him as The Terminator and he may or may not have insinuated that if anyone bullies her they’d be crushed by his crazy robot arm. He loved that where others saw something missing or incomplete, she just saw Eddie as a superhero. Eddie loved watching her grow from the shy little orphan they met to a glowing, outgoing and bright young lady. He loved that, even when he protested, her and Richie managed to bring home strays they’d nurse to health and bring to the shelter until Eddie gave in to keeping a straggly, Gremlin-looking cat and a mousy pitbull with a missing front limb. Eddie loved teaching her math. Eddie loved watching Richie tell her bedtime stories and make up about a thousand different characters and voices and would even give Eddie a go at some.

And it would all come eventually, as Eddie and Richie held each other on the mattress on the floor in their first bedroom, empty of all things except a few boxes and suitcases fresh from Derry. They were lying awake, not yet used to the audible life surrounding them in the big city, the realization of their adulthood finally sinking in as they were starting their lives. It was warm, but not uncomfortable, and their breathing became in sync while they tried to drift off and escape the anxieties of their fresh move.

“We’re going to be OK, right?” Eddie whispered in the dark.

Richie squeezed him tight. “We have each other, Eds. We’re more than OK.”

Eddie wasn’t met with dread or even doubt. He felt whole. He felt loved. For the first time in a long while, and definitely not the last, Eddie felt deep down the sincerity of an overwhelming feeling of hope. He was going to love his life. Eddie pulled himself closer, allowing himself to be completely wrapped in the arms of Richie Tozier as he kissed him deeply, knowing with certainty that no matter what, his happiness was inevitable, because this was the love of his life; he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again and I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Please, everyone be safe out there and stay healthy! <3


	14. Part Two!

Part Two of this series has now begun! I didn't intend on created an entire part two, but I couldn't help myself. I created the link before the Epilogue chapter for fresh newbies, but for those who have read this and already have it bookmarked I just wanted to make sure you knew that I have extended a bit of the Epilogue and it will now be a new fic!

I really hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed this, because it's really fun to write for these characters again. It's set 4 years later in New York and is aptly titled New York, New York, and follows up with how Eddie is dealing with the stress of his trauma, which is NOT THAT WELL. But I promise happy endings.

You can either click to the next part of the Series above or follow the link here:

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440399/chapters/56184931>

Stay safe lovies!


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